


You Don't Choose Whom You Love

by taxicabber



Series: The White Wolf and the Lion [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Romance, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 08:07:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 75,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taxicabber/pseuds/taxicabber
Summary: What if Lia had been raised by the Lannister's? How would that change her and Jon's destiny? An AU to my last story! I've begun working on this story again, I know its been a long time! But I hope to have the next chapter out within the week! Thanks for reading!





	1. Chapter 1

My day has been quite dull considering all the gossip floating around at home. My grandfather spent all morning lecturing me on things I’ll need to know when I take over Casterly Rock after he passes on. He's a great teacher and has been one of the most effective rulers of the west throughout history. I know that people all over the world long to have what I have. I’m from the wealthiest families in Westeros, I’m heir to that great fortune, and my cousin will be the next king of the seven kingdoms. It does sound nice, but they don’t get to live it as I do. They don’t see how corrupt our world is, it’s nearly rotten to the core. Nobility are the worst type of people. They hide behind their courtesies and then stab others in the back the first chance they get. I prefer to spend my time with the servants or sneaking off into the city. My grandfather would be furious if he ever found out about it. I'd be banned from ever leaving without him again. He'd probably prefer that I be more obedient. People also don’t know how spoiled and entitled their next king is. Joffery is one of the worst human beings I’ve ever encountered. Anybody who is actually close with him knows he has no empathy. Grandfather always preaches to me about how family is what matters most, keeping the legacy going. But how can you support family when its a whiney and spoiled brat?  
Some people regard me with scorn due to the fact that my father sired me when he wasn’t married. My mother died in childbirth and I don’t know anything about her, not even her name. She could be anyone and I'll never know. I've begun to wonder about her lately. Instead of abandoning me to die, the midwife who delivered me brought me to the man she knew to be my father, Jaime Lannister. She must have been friends with my mother to know who fathered me, or maybe it was on her dying breath? These things have been in my mind for months now. By the seven’s graces Tywin accepted me and then asked my Uncle, King Robert to legitimize me so that he could have an heir that wasn’t his dwarf son. It may not have been an ideal situation, but to him, I was better than Tyrion in almost every way.  
From that moment on my grandfather raised me. Since my father is a kingsguard in the capital, I didn't see him very often, I still don't. Casterly Rock was a lonely place to grow up as a little girl. Since I had no siblings, there were no other children for me to play with. My grandfather was a busy man and was often away for long periods of time. Now that I'm older I know he was just doing his duty as Warden of the West, but as a girl I felt abandoned each time he left and I couldn't go with him. The only other person in the castle that was left to play with me was my Uncle Tyrion. It was he, who taught me to love to read and learn as much as he does. I remember he always helped me skip lessons to spend the day with him. This is why I'm so close to my uncle, he's the one who cared for me. He has always supported my decisions and is the person I always go to when I need advice. I love my father with all my heart, but I don’t get to see him very often. When he is home or when we go to the Red Keep to visit, he’s been training me in swordplay and archery. When my grandfather found out how exceptional my talent was, he allowed me to train with our Master at Arms when father isn't around. My Grandfather has even called in other specialists to work with me, most of them are from Essos.  
I am one of the few, if not the only lady of the seven kingdoms who is fully trained in combat and war tactics. Someday I will be the one to lead the Lannister armies into battle when called upon. Most of our bannermen are respectful to me, but I know they will become difficult when my grandfather dies. My grandfather is a powerful and intimidating person. He is ruthless in all that he does. They think I am a woman with a soft heart, someone they can push over and attempt to grab more power. Long ago I resolved not to be like most women. When the time comes I will be like Iron. I don't wish to be exactly like my grandfather but I want to be just as respected as he is. The Westerlands are mine by right.  
“My Lady,” a servant bustles into my chamber and curtsies lowly to me. I look up from my book and recognize him as my grandfather’s personal servants. “Yes?” I ask expectantly. “Your grandfather has requested everyone’s presence in the main hall.” I let out an exasperated sigh. I should’ve known that I couldn’t have some time alone. I was just starting to get interested in the story. At least I know it will be waiting for me when I get back. I know that if he’s calling everyone together he must have an announcement, which means I need to look presentable. “I will be down shortly,” I inform the servant and watch as he closes my door. I mark the page I left off on and set the book aside. I take a seat in front of my vanity to appraise my reflection. I pull my blonde hair out of the knot that is tied to the back of my head and the curls tumble down my back.  
I look at my reflection in my vanity once more. I’ve been told I was beautiful by many people but sometimes I don’t believe them. I’m shorter then most people, except my uncle of course. I have long blonde curly hair like my aunt Cersei but it’s often frizzy and pulled back away from my face. Not like her beautiful calm curls. That could be because I actually have more important things to do than work on my appearance. I have freckles across my cheeks and nose from all the time I spend in the sun. My favorite part about Casterly Rock is the fact that it’s on the Sunset Sea and we have private beaches. I love to swim in the sea. There isn't anything like it. After brushing my hair and arranging it neatly around my head, I reach my wardrobe. Sometimes I’m awed by the amount of gowns I have. I slip into one of my usual dresses. It’s red with wide sleeves and with intricate embroidery down the arms. To tie it together I use one of the golden belts stamped with my lion sigil.  
Once I deem myself presentable I make my way down the corridors to the main hall. The castle is bright today as sun pours through the stained glass windows. Its been a warm few days, and we haven't had a need to light fires in our chambers. I finally reach our great hall. Two of our red-cloaked guards pull open the grand wooden doors, allowing me to pass through after they incline their heads to me. When I enter the hall people are already whispering nervously. I stride inside and take my place at my grandfather’s right hand. The table is set already, even though it is only past midday and not at all close to supper.  
As the last few people trickle into the back of the hall, my Grandfather stands. “Thank you all for joining me,” his voice rings out into the hall. “I have just received a letter from King’s Landing.” I share a look with my uncle across the table. News from King's Landing is common, I wonder what the letter said? Only something very important would cause a meeting like this. I hope my father and others are alright. “Jon Arryn has died and his grace is traveling to Winterfell with an entire royal party. We will mourn the loss of Jon Arryn along with the rest of the country.” He holds up his golden encrusted Lannister goblet, “To Lord Arryn.” We all follow suit and drink to the loss of the hand of the king. He was always a kind man and he kept the realm in peace while the king had fun and got drunk. Although the realm isn't quite where it needs to be. When grandfather returns to his seat he turns to Tyrion and I, “Both of you will be joining the royal party on their way to Winterfell.”  
I beam in excitement. If I didn't have any manners I'd probably be bouncing in my seat. I never get to go anywhere besides the Westerlands and the capital. I’ve always longed to see the rest of the country and the great cities beyond the sea. Now is my chance to at least see the North. Tyrion raises an eyebrow, “Well that is such a surprise. Of course we’ll be honored to join my darling sister and his grace.” Tywin glares at Tyrion, the type of glare I hate being on the other side of. “You will both be on your best behavior. Lia, you are the future of our house. Do not disappoint me.” I swallow back my nervousness. "Of course Grandfather," I reply softly. "I'd never disappoint you." “You best hurry and pack your bags. The Royal party will be on their way and you must meet them at the Crossroads inn.” 

 

In only a few weeks time, we’ve joined the royal party and we are almost to Winterfell. The weather is significantly colder as we travel north. It is still summer but the Maester’s say that the Starks are right, winter is coming. The last winter wasn’t too bad. I was only a girl and spent all of it warm and comfortable at home. It was a short winter and now this summer has lasted a decade. I've really only ever known summer. I know the old wives tale that if a summer is long then winter will be especially hard and longer then the summer. A long winter will be hard, especially if we're not prepared for it.  
I spend the journey riding next to my father or in the carriage with my aunt and cousins. The latter is quite unfortunate considering the fact that my aunt detests me. I never understood why, but sometimes I fear that if she could, she would kill me. She certainly has the resources to do so. When I was younger I tried everything to get her to like me, but as I got older I realized she would never truly like me and I gave up. Tyrion spends most of our journey with my father or drinking with the king. They both enjoy their alcohol. I have voiced my fears to him but he has reassured me countless of times that my aunt would never hurt me.  
The morning before we arrive at Winterfell my aunt wakes me. “Lia!” She snaps and I jerk awake in the wheelhouse. “Yes, Aunt Cersei?” I ask after yawning. She glowers at me and I shift awkwardly in my seat under her hard gaze. That is when I realize my cousin Myrcella is asleep in my lap. “We’ll be arriving in a few hours and you must look presentable.” “Myrcella,” I softly place my hands on her shoulders. She lazily opens her eyes, “Good morning Lia.” I smile as she stretches, looking a lot like a cat. “Good morning.” Her gaze turns to her mother, “Good morning mother. Are we finally arriving at Winterfell today?” Cersei’s expression softens at the sight of her daughter. “Yes my sweet girl. We all must dress now.” When we exit the carriage I see camp has already been made for us nobles to make ourselves presentable for greeting the Stark family. There are servants scurrying back and forth and guards are standing protectively around the perimeter. Even if the realm is at peace you can never be too sure. The kingsroad has been known to be dangerous. “Father,” I greet cheerfully when I see him standing outside of the king’s tent. He’s already dressed in his kingsguard armor with his white cloak secured around his shoulders. I wonder if he's cold in his armor?  
“Good morning Lia.” He smiles and kisses the top of my head when I stride over. I incline my head to the other man; “It’s a pleasure to see you again Ser Barristan.” The older man looks fondly down on me. “And to you as well, Lady Lia.” “Did you sleep well last night?” My father questions. I stretch, “It was a little uncomfortable in the wheelhouse and Myrcella fell asleep on me. So it could have been better.” Both men laugh. “We’ll arrive in Winterfell shortly and you’ll get a feather bed to sleep on tonight.” A feather bed sounds glorious. After this long on the road it'll be great.  
Back in my aunt’s tent, I get ready with her and Myrcella. Myrcella’s constant chatter keeps the mood happy. My aunt is actually cordial with me and gives me genuine smiles. Myrcella and I are really excited to see Winterfell. We talk back and forth about some of the ancient Stark figures from our lessons. A small part of me always wants my aunts approval and I don’t understand why she’s so strange with me. Perhaps it’s because of my birth, my mother must have been lowborn for me to receive such scorn for her. But my family never answers my questions about her.  
I wear a more simple dress for the royal greeting. It’s a light red color that ties at the side, in a style similar to what my aunt usually wears. I leave my hair in a boring braid down my back. I know we will still be travelling for a few more hours and any kind of elaborate hair-do will only get messed up. I long to ride into the courtyard on a horse, but I’m a Lady and must ride in the wheelhouse with the other ladies and my young cousin Tommen. I bitterly regard my cousin Joffery on his horse. I am a far superior rider then he is, yet I’m stuck inside while he gets to be out here with the others. Finally just before we re-enter the carriage I don my fur wrapped cloak for warmth.  
Winterfell soon comes into sight and I press my face against the window of the carriage to look at it. The castle is magnificent with its towers and the massive heart tree is visible from the road. I've never been to a real godswood before. The party begins to enter the courtyard and our carriage pulls to a stop. I hear my Uncle Robert be announced just as a servant pulls open the door to our carriage. Tommen and Myrcella leap out of the carriage first, eager to be on solid ground I assume. Riding in a carriage isn't enjoyable at all, it's constantly bouncing back and forth. When I exit I see Robert talking with who I presume is the Stark family. I see two younger girls and three boys around their parents. Lord Stark is conversing with King Robert, and I see he is smiling. I remember that they were fostered with the late Jon Arryn together at the Eyrie many years ago, I recall that they were great friends, closer than brothers. They entered the war together. The woman next to Lord Stark must be Lady Catelyn Stark. I spy leaping trout’s embroidered on her collar and remember that she was once a Tulley of Riverrun. I see that my cousin Joffrey has his eyes on the older of the two Stark girls; she is very beautiful with bright red hair like her mother.  
My aunt finally exits behind me in her long sleeved cloak and I see her look around the courtyard in disdain. She seems like she is unhappier then normal, perhaps she is cold. That is when I see several men staring at me instead of her, the very thought makes me feel self-conscious. I know I'm old enough to get attention from men, but it still startles me. My aunt strides over to the Stark family to be formally greeted. My father takes off his helm and stands next to me. We don’t speak but I am comforted by his presence beside me. Robert then announces to the courtyard. “Take me to the crypts, I wish to pay my respects.” I quickly remember that Robert wasn’t always to marry my aunt. He was originally promised to Lord Eddard’s sister, Lyanna Stark. Everyone says she was a great beauty but that she also had skill on a horse and with weapons. They say some houses in the north teach their daughters to fight as well as any son. I’m proud that I’ve been able to train as I have been, most girls aren't so lucky.  
My aunt objects, “we’ve been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait?” I feel second hand embarrassment for her. She shouldn’t stand in the way of someone who wishes to mourn, but Robert should also respect her more. She is his queen and he should treat her as such. Robert wouldn't have nearly enough power without my family. Robert ignores her request and motions his hand, “Ned.” Lord Eddard looks apologetically at my aunt before following the king out of the courtyard.  
Cersei composes herself and holds her hand out. I move forward with my cousins after Joffery dismounts. “These are my children, Princes Joffery and Tommen.” Her hand moves to Myrcella, “This is Princess Myrcella.” Her hand stops at me, “This is my niece Lady Lia.” We all incline our heads as a sign of respect for Lady Stark. She smiles kindly, “It is a pleasure to meet you all. Welcome to Winterfell.” I hear the younger of the Stark girls ask, “Where’s the Imp?” I bite my lip to keep from laughing, as Cersei hurries to my father’s side, no doubt to demand where my uncle is. I'm surprised he's not here, he was with us earlier.  
My father quickly heeds her words and leaves the courtyard quickly with his long strides. I wish I could go with him. Lady Catelyn ushers us all inside while exchanging pleasantries. The older Stark girl Sansa, greets me warmly. I can tell that she’s sweet simply by how she gushes about the royal visit. I can see that she’s a dreamer and she wishes to be in the south. It is warmer and I think a beauty like her would do well at court. I receive my own chamber near the royal ones. 

 

The welcoming feast is to begin at sundown. I decide to rest for a few hours in my chamber. The last month of travel has been taxing. Part of me longs for the open air in the woods outside Casterly Rock. It’s rocky land but I feel free when I go riding out there. I itch for more training with my father but I assume he will be far too busy during our visit here to work with me very much. I'll basically be trapped inside the castle till the day we leave.  
When I begin to get ready for the feast I open the trunks that were brought up for me. There is a note attached to one of them from my grandfather, I recognize his handwriting. He commissioned the dress makers in Lannisport to make me new dresses for the visit. The dress he has had made for me to wear tonight, is meant to show off my status I assume. It’s one of the most beautiful dresses I’ve worn yet. It’s relatively easy to get on considering I only have one handmaiden assisting me. It’s a deep red gown with the gold inlay designs on the fabric. Wrapped around each shoulder is the stitched and beaded lion sigil of my house. It’s much warmer then anything I’d ever worn before due to the thicker fabric. Due to the length of my dress I keep my riding boots on and pray that no one will notice. Slippers are uncomfortable and these will be easier to move around in. Plus if someone steps on my feet it won't hurt. One of my aunt’s handmaidens braids my hair away from my face in a more simple design. Most of my blonde hair curls around my shoulders. I wear a very small golden necklace engraved with a lion that is barely visible compared to the massive pendant my aunt usually wears. I got it in Lannisport and I really adore it.  
I’m escorted down to the main hall by several Lannister guards. I join the head table next to my uncle Tyrion, thankfully. He's a little drunk but still keeps me entertained during the meal. His jokes about the other people keep me laughing. The music that is playing is upbeat and the food is wonderful. Robert gets drunk quite quickly and spends most of the feast with the women in the hall. He shames my aunt in front of everyone by groping serving girls and several of them even expose their breasts. Lady Catelyn does her best to distract Cersei with small talk, but we all know she can see whats happening. She's not stupid, quite the opposite. Both Robb Stark and Theon Greyjoy talk with me for quite some time. As we are all three heirs to major houses, I find it nice that someday I can put a name with a face. Benjen Stark is announced and he’s dressed in all black for the Night’s Watch. I hope I can find time to speak with him as the Night's Watch is something I've studied in depth.  
After awhile I excuse myself for some air. It was beginning to feel hot and cramped. The moment I leave the hall I take a deep breath of cool crisp air. I can't remember it ever being this cold back home. It feels good to breath in this air. It's far different then the heat and humidity in the south. The main hall is hot due to the amount of people and candles that light it. I hear the sound of a sword and realize that I’m not the only one out here. There is a boy, probably around my age, swinging a sword viciously at a cloth-covered dummy. He’s dressed in nice leathers so he can’t be a servant. He has dark curly hair and fine boots on his feet. I curiously watch him; slightly amused that he hasn’t noticed that I’m right behind him.  
Finally I decide to speak up as he continues to slash at the dummy with quite a bit of aggression. “What did he ever do to you?” The young man drops his sword and spins around. His eyes widen when he sees me perched on one of the wooden posts. “Who-I apologize er my lady.” “Why aren’t you at the feast?” I question curiously. His lips deepen into a frown. “My name is Jon Snow, my lady.” I knew that Ned Stark had a bastard son around my age; I should have guessed this was he. “Lady Stark didn’t think it was appropriate for a bastard to attend such a feast.” “She sounds as bad as my aunt,” I offer up in consolation.  
He cocks his head to the side. “You aunt?” “Queen Cersei,” I clarify while chuckling. “She detests me,” I tell him softly. “Why would she detest her niece?” I shrug my shoulders. “I presume my mother was lowborn, perhaps that is why.” He raises his eyebrows, “you have a lowborn mother?” I look away from his intense gaze. “I honestly don’t know anything about my mother, save that she died in childbirth.” Jon’s grey eyes soften when I return my green ones to his. “I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about my mother either. So, you're not alone.”  
“I’m Lia,” I say offering up my name with a smile. “I know. I saw you when you arrived.” “You were there? I didn’t see you.” He awkwardly clears his throat. “I was in the back. As I said earlier, I’m not a Stark.” I smile softly at him, “you know, sometimes I wish I wasn’t a Lannister. I'd say you're pretty lucky.” “Why is that?” He questions sarcastically. I'd guess he is a little bitter about his birth. I probably would be in his shoes.  
“I can never be free to make my own choices,” I answer him honestly. “I’m happy that I can help protect my people. But I will always be someone’s pawn. I'll never be able to do something simply because I want to, I''l always have to think about potential consequences.” “I did not expect you to be so honest.” “Not everyone from the south is a liar.” News to me. I think the south stereotype is fitting," he replies and I see his lips are twisted up in a smirk. "Says the one who is hitting a dummy in the middle of the night." "Are you saying this is northern?" "I might be." I hear more voices coming from inside the hall. “I should return before someone notices I’ve gone missing. But I’d like to speak again,” I add feeling my cheeks heat up. “If that’s alright with you?” He looks startled and I’m surprised by my own actions. I’ve never been so interested in a person before. He's so different then anyone I've ever been around. “I would like that,” he replies softly as he watches me. I leave him in the courtyard unaware that Tyrion watched the whole exchange.  
The hall, if possible, is livelier when I return. People are dancing, laughing, and drinking to their hearts content. Neither my father, nor my uncle are here, much to my disappointment. I spend the rest of my time chatting with the Stark children. They are all easy to talk to, but the younger of the girls Arya, is my favorite. She’s spirited and adventurous. She reminds me of myself in many ways. She tells me how interested she is in archery and swordplay, and she is eager to inform her mother that I was able to learn from the master of arms at Casterly Rock. She reasons that if I learned why can't she?  
The king and Lord Stark go on a hunting trip outside of Winterfell the next day. My father was quick to reject when I asked to attend. I sullenly accept his answer and am forced to spend my time in needlework with the rest of the noble girls. I’ve never been incredible at needlework but I manage quite well. I see that Sansa has exceptional skills, while Arya is abysmal, far worse then I am. 

 

The mood at Winterfell is dark when news comes in that young Brandon Stark had fallen from one of the towers. They say he used to climb all over the castle and this is how the gods punish him. He has yet to wake and Lady Stark is said to be spending all her time at his bedside. I pray in the small stone Sept for his well-being and recovery. He's only a boy and deserves better than this. The Maester is sure that the worst is over and he will eventually wake. Hopefully the gods will be merciful and allow him to wake up and heal.  
I spend more time with the Stark girls and find that I’m eager to have them in the capital. It will be nice to have people who won’t stab you in the back the moment they can. I think Lord Stark will be good for the capital, he's a good man. I think he'll make an effective ruler and perhaps he can teach my cousin how to rule as well, because Joffery surely needs it. Theon Greyjoy, much to my amusement, asked both my father and Lord Eddard for permission to take me on a ride. My father was quick to refuse, which I am glad for. I dislike his arrogant attitude and my father hates the Greyjoy's more then almost any other family. Some of the ladies tell me just how often he visits the brothel in Wintertown and I'm very glad I was able to get out of the ride. Jon and I speak as often as we can. I find I enjoy his company more then anyone else here. He informs me that he will be joining the Night’s Watch order with his Uncle Benjen.  
On the day we are supposed to leave I have breakfast with all the Lannister’s in the hall. The hall is much more subdued with so many people in mourning for little Bran Stark. I sit with my father at the table, breaking bread apart to eat. It's warm and freshly made. Even with Lady Stark in so much sorrow she still manages to keep her guests happy and comfortable. I'm sure she'll relax more when My uncle Tyrion walks in after ordering some servants to bring him food. He tickles Tommen and moves him aside so that he can sit next to my father and I. “Beloved siblings,” Tyrion greets dramatically. “Beloved nieces and nephew.” I pull away from his outstretched arm when he attempts to muse my hair, shooting an angry scowl in his direction.  
Myrcella nervously looks at Tyrion. “Is Bran going to die?” I bite my lip at her innocence. I don’t know how someone could survive such a fall, especially a child, though the Maester is optimistic. Tyrion pulls at some bacon with a knife. “Apparently not.” My heart lifts at the thought of the little boy surviving. I know people are hopeful but he sounds so sure of it. “What do you mean?” Cersei asks softly but her eyes are hard. She almost looks angry. “The Maester tells me that the boy may yet survive.” I share a smile with Tommen and Myrcella. Gladdened by their hopeful expressions, I know they've also been praying for him. “It’s not merciful for a child to live in such pain.” Tyrion shrugs as he continues to eat. “The seven only know for certain. The rest of us can only pray.” Myrcella beams, “Lia and I have prayed for him the Sept each morning.” “That is very kind of you, my dear,” Tyrion tells her joyfully.  
“I can’t believe you’re going,” Cersei says in disgust. “Where’s your sense of wonder?” Tyrion asks good naturally as he eats a piece of bacon. I frown, unsure of what they are discussing. “Where are you going Uncle?” I question curiously. He beams at me, “The greatest structure ever built! The men of the Night’s Watch!” He turns to Tommen and growls, “the wintery lands of the White Walkers and the wildings.” Tommen giggles in delight. “You’re going to the Wall?” He smiles kindly at me. “Aye, I sure am.” Possibilities buzz in my head as I ignore the rest of the conversation. I want more then anything to go with him. I've always had a desire to see the world and here is a chance.  
I look up from my plate and I realize my aunt and cousins have left. I bite my lip knowing what the answer will probably be, but I have to ask. This could be my one opportunity to see more of Westeros. “Father?” I begin softly. “Yes, my dear?” He asks in between bites. “Can I go with Tyrion?” My father sets down his knife to look up at me. “What?” I look to Tyrion and I see him beaming at me, apparently he wanted me to ask. He does know me best. “I want to see the Wall more then anything in the world.” “Please father,” I add softly, giving him my best puppy dog eyes.  
“Your grandfather would not be pleased if I let you go gallivanting off to the edge of the world,” my father says with a frown. Tyrion notices my desperation and cuts in, “well by the time he knows about it we’ll already be coming back to the capital.” I send him a smile in thanks. “I’ve studied the Night’s Watch histories for years. I’ve read every book about them in Casterly Rock,” I tell my father eagerly. He sighs and runs his fingers through his fine golden hair. “Oh, alright fine.” I leap across the bench to wrap my arms around him in an embrace. “Oh, thank you father!” He chuckles and returns my embrace, “do you promise me that you’ll be careful?” “Of course father.” “Tyrion will look out for you, till you return to King’s Landing.” Tyrion makes a laughing sound in the back of his throat. “I daresay in a fight she would be the one protecting me.”  
“Do you have your sword here?” “Of course,” I reply quickly. “Send most of your things south with us. It’ll be even colder up there.” I roll my eyes, “I know. You don’t have to worry about me, father. I’ll be fine.” “It’s my job to worry about you,” he replies with a smile. He kisses the top of my head as I get ready to leave the table.  
I bid my goodbyes to them quickly and rush up to finish packing my belongings. I dress in my armor and fur lined cloak. I place my sword at my belt gingerly touching the pommel. It was a gift from my grandfather on my last nameday. It's made of the finest steel with a lion shaped pommel. I can't wait to leave.  
When I exit my room I run into Jon. His eyes travel over my clothes. “What are you wearing?” I beam excitedly at him, practically bouncing up and down on my feet. “I’m joining you on the way to Castle Black with my uncle.” “You are?” He asks in shock. “I’ve always wanted to see the Wall,” I point out excitedly. “And I get to see where you’ll be. After we part,” I begin awkwardly. “If I wrote to you, would you write back?” A flush spreads across his cheeks, “I-er of course I would.” “Wonderful,” I reply knowing my own cheeks must be as flushed as his. “I must bid my family goodbye. I’ll see you down there yeah?” He nods and watches as I rush away to my family.  
“I’ll see both of you when I return to the capital,” I tell Arya and Sansa. “I’m very happy you’ll be there.” Arya pouts and places her hand on Nymeria’s head. “I wish I could go with you, but father told me no, even when I begged.” I smile down at her, “Next time?” She beams, “Yes!” I incline my head to Lord Eddard. “I hope you have a safe journey, my lord.” “And you as well my lady,” he replies in a kind manner.  
I hug both Tommen and Myrcella goodbye. They both seem saddened but are eager for my stories when I return home. “Aunt Cersei,” I begin softly. “I hope you have a good journey back home.” Her lips curls, “Must you join my brother on his trip?” I nod quickly, “Yes. I will join him on his way to Castle Black and on our return to King’s Landing. We shall see you in a few months.” She turns away and gets in her carriage. “Goodbye Joffery,” I tell him as he climbs on his horse. “Yes yes,” he says impatiently to me. “Goodbye Lia.” Robert kisses my hand, “When you come back tell me all about the Wall.” I smile, “of course I will, your grace.” He is assisted on his own horse next to Lord Stark.  
My father hugs me tightly, which hurts with all his armor on, but I'm glad to be in his arms. “Don’t be worried father,” I tell him softly. “I’ll protect Tyrion from all the ice we will encounter on the way north.” He chuckles and brushes back my hair in an affectionate manner. “Seven knows he needs it. I will eagerly await your return Lia.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “But you should know your grandfather will be displeased with you.” I shrug, “that’s alright. He’s been displeased with me many times before.” He helps me mount my own horse and I’m excited that I will ride the way north and all the way back to the capital, which means I won’t be in the wheelhouse at all, thank the seven. "I love you father," I tell him before we part. "I love you too Lia," he replies. "Be safe, my dear." 

 

After leaving Winterfell, the rest of the party turns to head south down the Kingsroad, while I turn north to Castle Black with the others. Two Lannister guards are accompanying us for our protection, as is Benjen Stark and Jon. Jon stays behind to bid his father goodbye. I ride next to Benjen, asking him questions about the Nights Watch. “How do you choose a Lord Commander?” “We vote for one,” he answers with a smile. “Anyone can be chosen?” I ask skeptically. “Yes my lady. The Night’s Watch doesn’t care where you came from. We are all brothers once you take your vows.” “How often do you get new recruits?” “We send out recruiters all the time. People used to volunteer, like Jon did. But that’s not very common anymore.”  
“Why?” He chuckles, “you ask a lot of questions my lady.” I nod eagerly, “It’s better then not knowing anything.” My uncle joins in our laughter. “Would you believe that I taught her that?” He asks Benjen. “You? Pass down wisdom? I don't think so.” Benjen jests before returning his attention to me. “To answer your question, the Wall is severely undermanned,” he says sadly. “We only have three of our castles occupied right now.” “What about the other sixteen?” He beams, “Ah you know how many we have. Do you know which are occupied currently?”  
I frown as I try to think about which ones would be most useful. “Castle Black obviously.” That one is clear because thats where we're going. He nods and Tyrion is beaming at my extensive knowledge. He's always been proud of my intelligence. “Eastwatch by the sea, so you can get shipments from the Bay of Seals.” “Yes and the last?” “Shadowtower on the west side?” I question hesitantly.  
He whistles lowly. “Very impressive. Can you tell me what the first castle on the Wall was?” “Nightfort,” I answer instantly. “It’s the largest castle on the Wall.” I continue as I remember being fascinated by it. “They say one of the cooks there killed a king’s sons,” I continue eagerly. “Then fed him their cut up body parts at dinner.” “I think the lads up at the Wall could learn a thing or two from you,” he tells me with a smile. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew more about the Night’s Watch then I do,” he chuckles and adds, “and I’m first ranger. You put me to shame my lady.”  
Shortly after our conversation, Jon catches up to us. I can tell he’s troubled by his expression. “Are you alright?” I ask; letting the Lannister guards pass by so I could ride next to him. “I asked my father about my mother again.” “I guess it didn’t go well?” He sullenly shakes his head, “he promised me that he would tell me about her when we see each other again.” I give him an encouraging smile, “then you’ve made more progress then me. You have something to look forward to.”  
“Tell me about Casterly Rock,” he says changing the subject. “It’s so beautiful. The castle is carved out a cliff that overlooks the Sunset Sea.” I fondly think about the sea breeze and swimming in the undersea caves. “You can see Lannisport from the castle as well. It’s a bustling port city.” “It must be warm,” he muses. “Warm enough that I’ve been burned from the sunshine.” My smile fades as we continue riding. “I wish I could take you there. I think you would like it.”  
I see his cheeks flush deep red. “I’m sure I would. But my place is at the Wall now.” I nod sullenly. I hate that I have allowed myself to grow so close to Jon. I knew that he would stay at Castle Black to defend the Wall when I return to my boring life in the south. For someone I’ve only known a little over a month, I realize that I will miss his company more then most. He’s not like anyone I’d ever met before.  
That night we make camp by a stream and the sound of the running water is relaxing. The Lannister soldiers, Martin and Titusson make us a fire. I’ve never slept in the open air before; it’s always been in a bed, tent, or carriage. 'A lady isn't meant to sleep out here,' is what my aunt would tell me but I don't care. Jon’s wolf Ghost loves being out here. He drinks from the stream and allows me to pet him. His fur is soft and he often nuzzles my hand wanting more affection. Jon smiles at us from his place next to me. Benjen arrives with two other men. Their wrists are bound with rope as they are forced to sit by the other Night’s Watch ranger.  
I’m seated in between Jon and Tyrion by the fire. Tyrion is reading a book he brought for the trip and Jon and I are speaking quietly, joking about horses. I watch warily as Benjen orders their hands untied. Out of the corner of my eye I see Jon eyeing them with a similar expression. Tyrion looks over at our grim expressions. “Rapers. They were most likely given a choice,” he continues while nodding his head. “Castration or the Wall,” he says grimly. “Most choose the knife.”  
Jon fidgets in his seat next to me. I can feel the tension coming off of him in waves. I watch the new additions to our group warily. I catch them looking at me and it sends fear down my spine. I’ll be keeping my blade near me from now on and I suppose I should sleep close to my uncle in case they try anything. But I know I’m much better equipped to handle them then he is. He never learned how to defend himself.  
“Not impressed by your comrades?” Tyrion says to Jon. Jon doesn’t say anything in response but what he thinks is written all over his face. I wonder if he thought the Night's Watch would be like how it used to be, rather then the sad institution it is now. “You get a whole new family now that you’re joining the Night’s Watch.” I see Jon’s gaze flash over to his uncle. Benjen is leaning against a tree with his eyes closed, seemingly resting. “Why do you read so much?” Jon asks Tyrion, his voice dripping with disdain. I chuckle, already knowing the answer. “When you look at me what do you see?” Tyrion asks after winking at me.  
“Is this a trick?” Jon asks in confusion. “I am a dwarf,” he states proudly. “If I would have been lowborn, they would have left me in the woods to die. But,” he says meeting Jon’s eyes. “I am a Lannister of Casterly Rock.” I leave them to their conversation. I stand and dust off my pants. Martin stops me, his hand extended in my path. “My lady where are you going?” “The bathroom.” I giggle, “if that’s alright with you.” He stutters awkwardly, “Oh-er. Of course it is. It’s just our job to keep you safe.” I place my hand on his shoulder, “and it is appreciated. I won’t go very far I promise.” He nods nervously and I hurry off to do my business.  
When I return my uncle catches my gaze and his is harsh. “Don’t wander off like that.” “I had to go to the bathroom,” I tell him quietly. “Then take someone with you next time,” he scolds me gently. “Those men would do anything for a beautiful girl like you,” he says nodding to the new recruits. I pull the dagger from my boot and hold it out to him. “Then I would kill them,” I say simply. “You are too confident in your skills, Lia. You've never fought someone. You need to be more wary.” I brush off his concerns and return to the fire.  
Benjen returns with three dead rabbits for us all to share. I watch him curiously as he prepares them to be roasted. “Have you ever hunted before, my lady?” He asks when he notices me watching. “No,” I reply. “My grandfather never let me join hunts. He told me it was too dangerous.” “It’s not hard to clean a kill. Do you want to try?” I eagerly accept his offer to teach me. I always want to learn new things.  
“You aren’t like any highborn girl are you?” Jon asks when I return to my seat next to him with blood on my hands. I feel a blush spread across my face, “none that I’ve ever met,” I tell him cheekily. “I think my sister, Arya will be like you,” Jon tells me softly. “I got her a sword before I left.” I cock my head to the side with a smile, “a sword? I daresay you must be her favorite member of the family.” He joins in my laughter and tells me about how excited she was. “I’m going to miss her the most.” “I’ll tell her that when I see her in King’s Landing,” I say while placing my hand over his. He doesn’t pull away and my heart beats wildly in my chest. “Thank you, my lady.” “Please, call me Lia.” He bows his head and his dark curls cover his eyes. “As you say, Lia.” 

 

Snow starts to fall as we continue north. After several more days of travel we cross over a ridge. Beyond the ridge we catch our first glimpse of the Wall. I stare at it in awe. I never thought I would get to see it in my life. I thought I was destined to stay in the south for my whole life. I can hardly believe that thousands of years ago, Brandon the Builder built a massive wall of ice. I wonder what is beyond it? I have read the Maester’s tales of the wildings many times. But what else could be out there? In the stories they talk of White Walkers, giants, and children of the forest. But unfortunately all of those are simply stories.  
I look over to Jon and he’s staring at it with a similar expression. He has dirt on his face from our journey and no doubt I do too. “Welcome,” Benjen says to his nephew. My eyes travel down and I see smoke rising from what must be Castle Black. It looks so small in the distance. “Are you ready?” I question while looking over at Jon. “I-,” he begins and shakes his head. “Of course I am. Let’s go.”  
When we arrive at Castle Black, men greet us in the courtyard. I quickly realize that my uncle is right. All these men are not noble knights like the ones in the stories. They are in traditional black but aren't what I pictured at all. Tyrion slides off his horse just after Benjen. An older man with a large black cloak approaches us. “Welcome to Castle Black,” he says looking at us. “For several of you this will now be your home, for others we will have stewards prepare guest chambers for your use.” I swing my leg over my own horse and jump to the ground before anyone can assist me. “I am Tyrion Lannister,” my uncle says as he swaggers up in greeting. “I am Jeor Mormont, Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch.”  
The Mormont sigil flashes in my head and I recall everything I can on it. I know they live at Bear Island, an island far in the north. They are famous for their warrior women and fierce loyalty to House Stark. “This is my niece,” Tyrion holds out his hand in my direction. “Lia Lannister. Heir to Casterly Rock and future Wardeness of the West.” I hear people whispering things around us. Some are about me but most things are about my uncle.  
The Lord Commander kisses the back of my hand. “It is an honor to have you here, Lady Lia.” I blink a few times still wanting to look around. “Oh, I er-,” My uncle sends me a look and I compose myself. “The pleasure is all mine, my lord. It has always been a dream of mine to visit the Wall.” Benjen shakes hands with Commander Mormont. “The girl knows more about the Night’s Watch then I do." I blush under their praise. "We should introduce her to Maester Aemon. I think they would get along well.” I see Jon talking with some other men across the courtyard with Ghost at his side. I wonder what he's talking about?  
Tyrion and I are ushered inside and given warm food and drinks. “Thank you,” I murmur as a boy places food in front of me. He awkwardly bows and hurries off. “Jon Snow will be alright you know.” My gaze snaps up to meet Tyrion’s. “What does that have to do with anything?” “You’re worried about him.” I open my mouth to protest but he cuts me off. “I’ve watched you grow up. I know how you act," he says softly. "And you’ve never acted like this.” I look away from him and I suddenly feel anxious. “You’re fond of the boy,” Tyrion points out sullenly. “He’s nice to me. He doesn’t treat me like others do,” I explain to him quietly but feeling defensive. I'm embarrassed of it but also not. I don't really know what to think. “I know, but you are a Lannister of Casterly Rock. You have a duty to our house.” I sullenly push my food around my plate. “I know I do, I just didn’t think something like this would happen to me.”  
He pats my hand sympathetically. “Did I ever tell you about Tysha?” I look up from my food with interest. “No, who is that?” He sends me a sad smile. “I met her when I was sixteen. She was a wheelwrights daughter,” he explains. “She was on the road when Jamie and I rode by. She said that someone had tried to rape her. Your father went after the bandits but I stayed with her.” I look down; feeling sadness for the woman. It is a cruel world we live in, especially for women. “I comforted her and we became lovers.” I raise my eyebrows at him. Usually he doesn’t speak of these types of things with me. Men usually only discuss their lovers with other men and Tyrion goes to great lengths to hide that part of his life from me. “I loved her,” he confesses honestly. “We found a drunk septon and he married us. And for a short time, we lived together as husband and wife.” The smile fades from his expression. “That is until my father found out.”  
I swallow a lump in my throat. I know exactly how my grandfather can be. He has always been kind and loving to me, but I am one of very few. Most people know him for his actions. He led the slaughter against House Reyne during his youth and marched his forces to King’s Landing and sacked the city during Robert’s Rebellion. “It turns out Tysha was a prostitute that my brother had paid to make me happy.” He looks away from my pity. I can't believe that my father would do such a thing to Tyrion. I always thought they were close, that they loved each other dearly. How could he ever do that? “As a lesson, my father let his men have her and he forced me to watch. He paid her so well she could barely hold all her silver. They slipped put of her hands and onto the floor.”  
“I don’t know what to say,” I tell him quietly. “Lia, I love you. You are so very good.” I smile feeling warmed by his words. I have always prided myself on being a good person. In my world its not common to meet a noble with a good heart. “Much better then the rest of us,” he adds bitterly. “I don’t want to see you get hurt in the way I did.” “So I should just let grandfather sell me off to some man who might be horrible?” I ask him desperately. I've never really voiced my fears to anyone. “Cersei was frightened to marry too. Now she’s queen of all the realm.” “And her husband shames her publically,” I protest fiercely. “Yes,” he trails off, “that he does.”  
“Why don’t you get some rest?” He suggests softly. “We’ve had a long journey. I’ll have someone bring you some hot water to bathe as well.” “Yes uncle,” I reply while feeling defeated. I am escorted to my chamber and sit on the bed. I don’t wish to marry some southern lord, simply because I need a man to rule. I know suitors are going to start to seek my favor. But I know they will be clambering for my power and status. They won’t care for my feelings the way I want to be cared for.


	2. Chapter 2

My conversation with Tyrion bothers me for the next two weeks of our visit. I bitterly wish he wasn’t so smart. I can’t get his words out of my head. Why wouldn’t my grandfather want me to be happy? Doesn't he care about my happiness? I don't wish for the same thing that happened to my uncle to happen to me. Not that it matters since Jon is joining the Night’s Watch. He's the only one who has ever caught my interest. I explore Castle Black with my uncle and find that my favorite places are the library and the view from the top of the Wall. It’s beautiful no matter which direction you look. To the south you can see Westeros and to the north is pure wilderness, namely the haunted forest. I can’t decide which one is my favorite and being on the top of the Wall is magnificent. I feel less stressed out and more free when I look on in silence. The air is thinner this far up and I find it incredible that someone built this whole structure out of ice. It truly is the most wondrous structure built by mankind and I'm so fortunate I can see it.  
Maester Aemon is so wonderful; I wish I could take him back home with me. He’s much more knowledgeable then the Maester at Casterly Rock. He knows everything about history and he also lived through much of it. I also don’t feel like I’m annoying him when I ask constant questions, much to my enjoyment. The Maester at home sometimes answers my questions with exasperation. I tire him with my constant questions. But I know you can never learn to much.  
Jon is quite busy training now, so I don’t get to see him much. I can tell he’s having a hard time adjusting to life here. He chooses to sit with Tyrion and I at all meal times, much to my delight. He told me he's having a hard time making friends with the other recruits. On the other hand, Tyrion makes quick friends with one of the recruiters, called Yoren. I also agree that he’s pretty funny but I would much rather spend my time elsewhere, namely with Jon.  
I'm almost prepared for the journey back south. I can't believe our time here is already over. Now I'll be off to my boring life at home. Just before we leave, Tyrion and I watch the recruits train from up on a balcony with Lord Commander Mormont. Jon is easily the best swordsman here. It’s no competition as he beats all the others back. The man training him is Ser Alistair Thorne, known for his loyalty to the Targaryen’s. I remember my father telling me that he was exiled to the Wall by Ned Stark and King Robert for his actions in the rebellion. His voice is gravelly and low as it echoes up to us. “If that was a real sword you’d be dead,” he snaps at the most recent of Jon’s victims. The man is curled over with blood dripping out of his nose.  
Lord Commander Mormont hands Tyrion a letter from Winterfell. It seems that Jon’s younger brother Bran, has finally woken. He doesn’t remember anything from his fall, which seems to disappoint my uncle. I wonder what he thought he would remember. He was merely climbing a tower and fell, as some children do. I know that I slipped many times in the sea caves of Casterly Rock when I was a child. Thankfully I never got too hurt, only a couple of scrapes and bruises.  
Jon pulls away from the fight looking uncomfortable. “Lord Snow here,” Thorne says in distaste after throwing a glare at Jon. “Grew up in a castle. He probably spit on the likes of you,” he says sneering at the other recruits. The smallest of the recruits lunges after Jon, on Throne's orders. “Do you think Ned Stark’s bastard bleeds like all the rest of us?” He screams out a battle cry but swings his sword in bad form.  
Jon easily hits him once and throws him back onto the ground. One by one Jon defeats the rest of them. Tyrion is watching next to me looking impressed, as is Lord Commander Mormont. Even when Jon overpowers two attackers, Thorne doesn’t say much praise. “Lord Snow is the least useless person here,” he grounds out.  
“Excuse me,” I murmur to the others on the balcony and leave. I can only watch so much sparring. I itch to join but I know how terrible of an idea that would be. My father would probably appear out of nowhere, scolding me for being reckless. Inside Castle Black is very dark. I can barely see where I’m going as I walk through the corridors. They really need torches in here. Just before I reach my chamber someone grabs me from behind. Before I’m able to let out a scream a large hand covers my mouth. I distinctly feel two men behind me and I thrash around attempting to break free, the fear overwhelming me.  
“Stop your wiggling bitch!” One growls at me. When I turn around I recognize both of the men attacking me. They are both men of the Night’s Watch easily recognizable by their black cloaks. One rode to the Wall with me and the other man I’ve seen a few times in the mess hall. I recall that one of them is called Rast, and Jon had recently beaten him in the courtyard for training, rather brutally.  
I cease my attempts of breaking free when the other man pulls out a small thin knife, it shines in the dim light. My eyes widen and if Rast’s hand wouldn’t have been covering my mouth, I would have gasped in terror. The man holding the blade is pale with dark hair. “You rich Lannister bitch,” he snarls at me. “I was a legend in King’s Landing before your gold cloaks arrested me. The best assassin in Flea Bottom.” I jerk away when he moves the blade closer to my throat. “Your fucking family is the reason I am stuck in this shithole at the end of the world, and I want revenge. What better revenge is there then with their only heir?”  
Rast, who still holds me from behind takes a sharp intake of breath. “We’re not going to kill her, Karl!” He says in a harsh whisper. I can hear his voice quivering in fear. Now that I know both of their names I can at least have them arrested if I live through this. “I’m not going to kill her,” he snaps. “But I think we can have our fun with her before tossing her aside.” I violently shake my head before biting down on Rast’s finger. “OUCH!” I let out a scream as loud as I can before Karl shoves me up against the wall and presses the tip of the knife into the flesh of my exposed throat. I whimper as I feel blood drip down my collarbone. “THE BITCH BIT ME!” Rast snarls while nursing his hand close to his chest. His eyes are alight with anger, and I can see he's fuming.  
“Now she’s really going to get it,” Karl tells him over his shoulder. “No, please-” I gasp out in terror. “You think you’re so special for being highborn don’t you?” I look at his dark eyes and see that they are filled with extreme hate. “I’m going to show you what we do to pretty girls like you in Flea Bottom.”  
“Rast,” he says over his shoulder. Rast looks up and I see his eyes are hungry and filled with lust. I remember Benjen saying he was a raper when he recruited him. Tyrion told me that you get a choice, the knife or the Wall. Dread pools in my stomach as I realize what they want. “Hold her down.” I resolve to not go down without a fight and choose Rast as the first person to take out. When they switch positions I bring my knee up into Rast’s groin before he pins me. Just as he drops to his knees, another figure enters the corridor on the other side. "Help me!" I cry out as I shove Rast away from me as hard as I can.  
I recognize the figure as Jon when he starts to come closer, his dark curly hair makes him easily identifiable. When Jon realizes what is happening, he breaks into a sprint towards me. I slam my fist into Rast’s head feeling my knuckles split. Jon tackles Karl to the ground before he reaches for me again and they fall in a tangle of limbs and groans. When Rast struggles back to his feet, I kick him in the middle with all the strength I have. He groans and I smash the heel of my boot into he side of his head. He rolls over before not moving again.  
Jon and Karl are scrambling for the fallen knife on the stones. I can barely see who is on top because they are moving so fast. Just as Karl reaches the hilt, I step on his fingers as hard as I can. He lets go of the blade with a grunt and I quickly pick it up. I kneel down and without hesitating, I stab the blade down into his shoulder blade as hard as I can. He lets out a cry of pain and I jerk the blade back out. I can see the shiny blood on the surface in the dim light. Jon manages to knock him unconscious from a blow to the back of the head after Karl releases him. I step backwards, breathing heavily.  
“Lia, are you all right?” he asks when he gets back to his feet. I drop the blade onto the ground; and it clatters, echoing along the corridor. I nod my head and wrap my arms around myself. They wanted to rape me, maybe even kill me. “They hated me,” I whisper as I remember their dark eyes. “I did nothing to them and they hated me.” He hesitantly wraps his arms around my shaking frame. “We need to tell you uncle and the Lord Commander what happened.” Jon ties up Karl and Rast’s hands, but they’re both still unconscious. He grabs the fallen blade and places it in his leather belt as evidence.

 

“Come on,” Jon murmurs while gently taking my hand. I allow him to guide me back into the courtyard. Every eye is drawn to us and people begin to whisper about the blood on my shirt. Tyrion notices something wrong as soon as his eyes land on me and he begins to shove his way through the people gathered. For such a small man he is rather effective at forcing people out of the way. Benjen and Lord Commander Mormont cut their way through and meet us first. “Jon, what happened?” Benjen asks his nephew in shock. “Are you hurt My Lady?” Lord Commander Mormont asks at the same time with a furrowed brow, his eyes on my throat.  
“Get out of my way!” Tyrion snaps at people in front of him. “That’s my niece!” I drop Jon's hand and sink to my knees when Tyrion approaches, so that we’re the same height. “Uncle Tyrion,” I sob out. He sends an alarmed look to the others before enveloping me in a hug. “She was attacked in the corridor,” Jon explains softly. “What?” Mormont demands, his voice low and angry. “I found her just in time, Lord Commander. Rast and Karl are tied up in the hallway.” Benjen and Mormont share a look of disgust. “Edd! Grenn!” Mormont shouts into the courtyard. “Take Karl and Rast to the ice cells on the Wall where those scum belong!”  
Tyrion pulls away and notices the blood on my neck. Some of it has gotten onto his tunic from our hug. “Come on my dear. Let’s go see the Maester.” All four men walk with me to Maester Aemon’s study. He cleans the cut and wraps a bandage around my throat. My hand is bruised with some skin broken at the knuckles; but there’s nothing to be done for them. “There you are, all set my lady.” “Thank you Maester Aemon,” I tell him softly. “How could this have happened?” Tyrion demands angrily when Maester Aemon leaves the room with the assistance of a young man named Pyp. “I can’t apologize enough my lord,” Mormont says standing on the other side of my chair. “These men will be executed for their crimes, Lord Tyrion,” he continues trying to mollify my uncle. “They better be,” Tyrion remarks angrily. I've never seen his expression so thunderous; he reminds me of my grandfather right now. He would hate that very thought.  
“Jon,” I say softly as to get his attention. “How can I ever repay you for what you did?” He shakes his head when I catch his gaze. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m just glad you’re alright.” “But a Lannister always pays her debts,” I interrupt him with a small smile. “Perhaps-” Benjen begins after sharing a hesitant look with Mormont, who nods his assent. “Perhaps, Jon could be your sworn sword, my lady. If you both approve.”  
I suck in a deep breath in surprise. I never thought of this possibility. I can think of no better man for the job. Jon is exceptionally talented and he cares about my wellbeing. Tyrion releases my hand with a similar surprised expression. “But the Night’s Watch?” Jon asks after a minute. His voice is higher than usual, almost nervous sounding. “You might do better in this world protecting Lady Lia then being here on the Wall,” Mormont tells him with a small smile. “The vows-” “You haven’t taken your vows yet. I can still grant you leave and for this,” he nods his head at me, “I will allow you to do so.” He states after sharing another look with Benjen. “Jon, I think this is a good opportunity for you,” Benjen says fondly to him. “I love you and I want you to be happy.”  
Jon’s eyes move back to mine. We stare at each other in silence. I don’t even know if he would want this. He was so excited about joining the Night’s Watch, why would he want to spend his life following me around when I return to the south. It catches my attention when Jon stands straighter and places his hands on the hilt of his sword. “Then I would be honored to be your sworn sword if you would have me,” our eyes are lock and my stomach tightens, “my lady.” My heart flutters rapidly in my chest and I nod my assent, “The honor would be all mine, Jon Snow.” I’ve seen many men swear fealty to my grandfather before, so I know all the words necessary.  
Jon pulls his blade out from its sheath and kneels, while setting it gently at my feet. “I will shield your back and give you council. I will give my life for yours, if it need be.” I feel my spine tingling from the intensity of the look in his eyes. “I swear this by the old gods and the new.” I look down upon him affectionately. I clear my throat before speaking. “I vow that you shall always have a place in my home,” I feel a blush spreading across my cheeks and I hope it's dark enough in here that no one notices. “And at my table. I shall ask no service of you that will bring you dishonor. This I swear by the old gods and the new.”  
Tyrion claps his hands together after a minute of silence, “well Jon Snow, it seems you’ll be traveling down south with us.” Jon momentarily tears his gaze away from mine, “It would seem so, my lord.” My uncle waves his hand impatiently. “We’ll be spending a lot of time together, you can call me Tyrion.” Jon nods with his lips curved up in a smirk. “Tyrion.” "I thank you Lord Commander Mormont," I tell him kindly. "If you ever need anything for the Night's Watch, write directly to me. I will do everything I can to provide you with what you need." He and Benjen share a look of surprise. "That is very kind of you, my lady. I will remember that when winter has come."  
“I wish to talk to my niece alone,” Tyrion says quietly to the others. We watch as everyone files slowly out of the room, Jon the last one. “I’m glad you’re alright, Lia.” “Me too. I’m sorry if I frightened you.” He brushes my blonde hair back with his fingers affectionately. “The thought of what my father and brother would have done to me if you would have gotten hurt severely frightened me even more.” I giggle, causing him to smile. “I thought you’d be upset about Jon,” I say uncomfortably after our laughter dies away. He sighs, “I want to be able to protect you, Lia. But I do believe that physically,” he gestures to his height, “Jon Snow will do a much better job.” I laugh even harder and he ignores me. “But,” he continues. I hate that word, everything always has a but these days. “I know how you feel about him. I will not stop and if you wish it, I'll even help you hide it.” “You would do that for me?” I question in surprise.  
“Someone once told me, we don’t choose whom we love.” “Who told you that?” He smiles softly, “your father did.” “Was he talking about my mother?” I question brightly. Tyrion’s gaze falls sad, “I don’t believe so.” My face falls, “who else has my father ever loved?” Tyrion gently rubs my arm, “I think that is something you should discuss with Jamie the next time you see him.” I frown but resolve to do as he says.  
Benjen places his arm around his nephews shoulders once they leave the room, giving Tyrion and Lia the room. “I’m leaving for a ranging so you’ll be gone by the time I get back. Be safe when you head down south and I want you to know how proud I am of you, Jon.” “Thank you Uncle Benjen,” Jon murmurs in response. “I’m sworn to the Night’s Watch and it is the place I’m meant to be.” Benjen continues. “But a part of me always wished I could have the freedom to follow my heart.”  
“What do you mean uncle?” Jon questions in surprise. He's always known that his uncle longed to serve at the Wall, that it's what he dreamed of. “You know that my father and brother were killed in the south. Ned rode off to war and I stayed behind in Winterfell,” Benjen explains softly. “I grew to love someone while I was there.” Jon stares at his uncle bewildered. This is news to him. “But honor brought me to the Night’s Watch and that is what keeps me here. I’m glad you made the correct decision for yourself, Jon.”  
Jon raises his eyebrows, “what do you mean Uncle?” “You’re following your heart,” Benjen states softly. Jon stutters, “I-I don’t kn-know what you’re implying.” Benjen chuckles and pulls them aside in a small nook by the stables. “I’ve seen the way you look at her," he says knowingly. "And she looks at you in a similar way, my boy.” “Really?” Benjen smiles at his young nephew. “Don’t let a girl like that slip through your fingers, Jon.” “But I’m her sworn shield,” Jon objects since he knows some of the rules of the south. “Yes, and you will protect her as you should.” “She’s a noble.” “If she doesn’t care neither should you. It’s up to you, Jon. I just wanted to speak to you about it, since it's clear you don't know anything about girls.” Jon brushes off the small jab. “Thank you uncle. I’ll think about it,” Jon whispers still feeling unsure. “Be safe when you leave, uncle. I'll miss you.” “I’ve been beyond the Wall countless of times, you should be the one worried. You’re going south.” Jon chuckles, “it can’t be that bad,” he notices Benjen’s dark expression, “but I will be safe, I promise. Thank you.”  
Tyrion leaves to speak with our guards about our journey home. I stand in my chamber packing the few belongings I have here. I pull open the large dark wooden door when someone knocks. “Oh, Jon.” I say breathlessly when I see him and Ghost standing outside. “Er please, come in.” He enters quickly and I briskly close the door. “I- I just wanted to let you know-” I awkwardly clear my throat. “That if you ever wish to leave my service all you have to do is ask.”  
“Thank you,” Jon replies softly. “But I don’t believe I’ll ever wish to leave your side.” My breath catches and we stare at each other across the room. I tear my eyes away from his, which is so hard. “My uncle said we’d be leaving later today.” “Aye, he told me that as well.” “We’ll be returning to Winterfell on our way south. You’ll get to see your brothers.” Happiness swells in my chest at the sight of his expression. “I’m eager to see them again and my sisters in the capital.” I turn to him after placing the last of my things in my pack. “You’ve never seen the capital, have you?” He chuckles, “No, I was born somewhere in the south but I’ve never returned since. I truly have no idea what it looks like.”  
I swing my pack over my shoulders and hook my arm through his as we exit the room. “You will love it I’m sure. The Red Keep is huge and I know you follow the old gods, but the Sept of Baelor is beautiful.” He raises his eyebrows, “and the rest of the city?” “Well the city is filled with criminals and murders happen all the time." I start to laugh, "like I said, you’ll love it.” He chuckles, “If you're there, I’m sure I will.” I wonder if he can hear my heartbeat with him standing this close to me? Because that sent it into a frenzy and I'm sure my entire face is now bright red.

 

It doesn’t take us long to reach Winterfell. The kings road was relatively easy to travel. Our guards are kind and we all tell stories by the fire. When we reach Winterfell, we’re brought into the main hall right away to be greeted by Robb. “Jon?” Robb looks at his brother in shock. Jon hurries forward and embraces him with a wide grin. “It’s good to see you Robb.” “What are you doing here?” Jon pulls away and he looks back to me with a smile. “I’m Lady Lia’s sworn sword. Lord Commander Mormont allowed me to leave Castle Black as I had not taken my vows yet.” Robb glares at my uncle and I. “I wish to speak with you privately later.” Jon’s expression falls as he notices the seriousness of his brother. “Of course,” he replies after looking back at me.  
Tyrion looks to Robb expectantly. “I received a much warmer welcome on my last visit here.” Robb looks to Yoren after ignoring Tyrion. “Any man of the Night’s Watch is welcome here.” “A man of the Night’s Watch but not us?” Tyrion questions gesturing to himself and me. “I’m lord of Winterfell while my father is away,” Robb states proudly. “You should learn a lords courtesy then,” Tyrion snaps at him. "Uncle," I scold gently, worriedly glancing between them. "I'm sorry, my lord," I apologize to Robb. "It has been a taxing few days of riding and my Uncle is tired," I say, offering up an excuse.  
I look between them unsure why Robb is so cold to us. He was so kind to me last time I was here, friendly even. We talked at several meals. The door opens and a large man come in carrying Bran Stark. “So its true,” Tyrion says softly. “Hello Bran, do you remember what happened?” The Maester answers for the boy. “He has no memory of what occurred.” “Why are you here?” Robb demands from behind. Hodor kneels, still supporting Bran. “Do you like to ride?” Tyrion asks Bran while ignoring Robb. “Yes,” he replies harshly. “I did like to, I mean.” “With the right horse and saddle, a cripple can still ride.” Bran looks at Tyrion coldly. “I’m not a cripple!” “Then I’m not a dwarf. My father will be pleased,” Tyrion retorts as a jest and normally I would have chuckled. But it seems too tense in here.  
He pulls out a paper from his cloak. I had seen him working on it the last days we were at Castle Black. “I have a gift for you, dear boy. Your saddler should be able to help.” Bran quickly opens it as any child would with a gift. Tyrion explains to Robb his plans. “That is very kind of you uncle,” I tell him softly. He sends me a sad smile. “Will I really be able to ride again?” Bran asks Tyrion softly. “Yes you will. You’ll be as good as any of them on horseback.” The smile lights up Bran’s whole face.  
“Is this some trick?” Robb demands from the table. “Why would you want to help him?” I see distrust in his eyes and in the eyes of his advisors. What could they possibly be so upset about? Has something happened in the south? Tyrion looks up at Robb. “I have a soft spot in my heart for cripples, bastards, and broken things. As your brother Jon might tell you,” he says nodding to Jon.  
“Jon!” Bran exclaims at the sight of his brother. Jon leans down next to him to hug him. “I missed you.” “I’m so glad you’re back! Now you can help me ride!” Jon’s eyes flash over to mine. “I’m sorry Bran. But I’m not staying for long.” “But why?” Bran asks desperately, his expression sinking. “Do you remember the knights Maester Luwin read to you about?” “Yes,” he answers immediately. “You know how they’re sworn to protect someone.” “Like a king right?” Jon smiles at him fondly. “Aye, but I’m sworn to protect Lady Lia. Do you remember her?” Bran looks over at me. “I do. You are Jamie Lannisters daughter.” “Yes I am,” I reply softly. "It's good to see you awake Bran." “I wish you could stay,” Bran says to Jon. “I’ll see you again," Jon reassures him. "I promise.”  
Robb looks uncomfortable but speaks once more. “You’ve done Bran a kindness and my brother Jon vouches for you. The hospitality of Winterfell is yours.” I can see that he’s rigid in his chair and his fists are clenched at his sides. Something must be seriously wrong. Even the Maester seems angry with us. “Spare me your false courtesies, Lord Stark," Tyrion calls out angrily. "I believe that there is a brothel outside your walls in Wintertown," he says rather snippily. I stare at him in alarm, the discomfort rolling off me. He can't expect my reputation to remain intact if word gets out that we stayed there. "I will find a bed there and both of us will be much more comfortable." Robb slightly relaxes. "But I ask that you allow my niece to remain here as a brothel is no place for a lady of her status.”  
“Uncle Tyrion!” I hiss in his direction. I don’t understand why they are being so cold to each other. Robb shares a silent look with Jon and nods immediately. "Of course. Lady Lia you are welcome to stay here with us. I would not want to harm your reputation if you stayed in such a deplorable establishment." My uncle doesn’t say anything else as he strides out of the hall. “If you’ll excuse me, my lord,” I politely incline my head to Robb before chasing after my uncle. “What is going on?” I demand after easily catching him. My legs are quite longer then his which was always good when we played tag.  
“I am going to a brothel for the night. You,” he points at me. “Will be staying here with Jon where you’ll be protected. I’ll send Martin to fetch you in the morning.” “Why can’t you stay here with me?” I question angrily. He nods his head to the doors. “The boy doesn’t trust me. I don’t know why. It’s better this way for everyone. Now go back inside, lest you catch a cold. Goodnight my dear.” I sullenly accept his orders and return to the hall.  
“I thank you for allowing me to stay, my lord. I appreciate your kindness.” Robb shifts in his seat at the table. “My brother must think there is good in you to swear his sword to you. I apologize if I offended you in any way, my lady.” “I don’t wish there to be any animosity between our families, my lord. There is no harm done.” The Maester whispers something to him and Robb nods in assent. “Please join us for supper when you are settled. Jon you can tell us all about the Wall, I'm sure we'd all like to hear about it.”  
A servant escorts me to a chamber. “Jon, did we do something to upset your brother?” I ask once we are alone. “I don’t know. Something is wrong for Robb to treat a guest as such. I've never seen him like this, so hostile.” “Bran seems to be doing well,” I point out while changing the subject. His behavior is something I need to think about. “He does. I’m going to speak with him and Rickon now, if it’s alright with you.” “Yes go ahead,” I tell him. “Wait,” I frown. “Where is Lady Stark? Should she not be here to greet us?” Jon turns back to face me, “You’re right. Perhaps she is unwell. It is not like her to miss such an important guest. I'll ask the boys later.”  
Supper is a quiet affair; just the Stark brothers, Jon, and myself. The food here is much better then anything we ate at Castle Black or on the road. Martin and Titusson are adept hunters and were able to properly feed us, but the taste was nothing compared to what is prepared in a Castle’s kitchen. It is nice to have warm bread and wine with a meal, rather then stale bread and stream water.  
I’m keenly aware of the fact that something is wrong. But I can’t quite figure it out. Robb seems unhappy about something but it isn't my business to ask. I'm guessing it has something to do with his mother, who is absent still. Rickon and Bran are both delightful. As children they pay no attention to politics. They continuously chatter back and forth about horses and swordplay. Rickon in particular asks me hundreds of questions about the south. He’s so adorable I wish I could take him back home with me. When they are taken off to bed, just Jon, Robb, and I remain. I can tell that they wish to speak alone by the way they look at each other. I may not have siblings but I'm not stupid. Jon may not see his brother for awhile and he told me that they're best friends. “If you’ll both excuse me we have a long journey ahead and I wish to get some sleep in a nice bed while I can.” Jon abruptly stands when I do, nearly knocking over his chair in his clumsiness. “I can find my way back by myself Jon," I tell him quietly. "Stay and spend time with your brother.” They both watch me as I walk out of the hall.  
“Why are you with the Lannisters?” Robb asks as soon as Lia leaves the room and the door closes behind her. “Why are you so cold to them? What has happened brother?” Jon retorts in the same annoyed and distrustful tone. Robb sighs and looks around the empty room. He trusts Jon more then almost anyone in the world and he is apart of this family. “My mother has rode to King’s Landing with evidence that the Lannisters were the ones who sent the assassin after Bran.” “An assassin came after Bran?! Why?” Jon demands angrily. “We believe he saw something in that tower. Someone tried to kill our little brother twice!" His gaze grows hard, hard enough that Jon resists the urge to shrink back. "And now you fucking serve the people who might have done it! It's disgusting!”  
Jon looks away from his brother’s hard gaze. “Even if what you say is true, Lia didn’t have anything to do with it!” Jon snaps at him feeling defensive over her, protective even. “She was with me when it happened.” The anger disappears from Robb’s face. “What?" "Lia was with me when Bran fell. I wasn't allowed to join you on the hunt with the king," Jon explains softly, remembering how he knew not to even ask to join. He knew what the answer would be. "Neither was she. So I was showing her the godswood. We came to the great hall together as soon as the guards announced it." Robb accepts his brothers answer but he is still upset. He'll never forget hearing his mother scream for the guards after she was attacked. "Why do you serve them?” “Lia was attacked at Castle Black,” Jon explains softly. “I happened to come across them in a corridor. I saved her and in return she offered me any kind of reward.” “Why would someone attack a guest?” Robb asks aghast. “One of them was arrested in King’s Landing by her families' men and the other was a rapist,” Jon remarks in disgust. The sound of her screaming for help is forged into his mind. "I stopped them just in time." "Gods have mercy," Robb mutters. “Uncle Benjen is the one who suggested I become her sworn sword.”  
“Really? Why would he do that?” Robb asks in surprise. Jon shifts uncomfortably but there isn’t anyone he trusts more than his brother. They've always told each other everything. It had been hard keeping his feelings from him when Lia was visiting but he thought he'd never see her again, that it wouldn't matter. Now everything has changed and he wants to share it with someone, he has to get it off his chest. There isn't anyone he wants to tell more then Robb. “He told me to follow my heart in a way he never did.” Comprehension dawns on Robb. He's never seen Jon like this around a girl. Jon hadn't noticed any girl before. Theon used to tease him often about liking men instead. “Oh, Jon," he breathes out. "Are you sure this is a good idea then?” “I haven’t said anything to her. I don’t know what to say." Robb watches his brothers sad expression and his heart goes out to him. "She’s a highborn lady and I’m only a bastard,” Jon whispers while sounding defeated.  
Robb feels bad for his brother. He can’t imagine what that must feel like. He hopes that he’ll be able to marry the woman he loves with no problem. But nobility can be fickle. “I think you’ll tell her when the time is right.” Robb laughs and puts his arm around him, “I never thought you’d find a girl you like more than your hair.” Jon laughs and shoves him off. “I’m glad you let us stay here.” “This is your home as much as it is mine. You’re always welcome at Winterfell, brother.”  
The next morning, after Jon and I bid goodbye to the Stark family we leave with Martin to meet back up with Tyrion. Jon fondly looks back at the castle before it disappears in the distance. My uncle and Yoren joke back and forth as we make our way down the Kingsroad. Jon and I speak softly as we ride behind them. We speak about everything and nothing. Each night we take turns taking watch, you can never be too careful on the rode. You hear so many stories about crimes committed on the Kingsroad. Ghost also has decided that its his place now to sleep at my side, which pleases me. 

 

Before long we reach the Inn at the crossroads. It’s a major stopping point on the Kingsroad, this is where I met the King's party on the way north. Jon sourly keeps Ghost close to him now that he knows Lady and Nymeria were lost not far from here. Robb told him that their father sent Lady’s body home to be buried in the north where she belongs. I can't believe that one of the wolves would just attack Joffery out of the blue. He must have done something to agitate Nymeria, they all seemed very well trained by the Stark children. Martin and Titusson tie up our horses outside the inn. I’m sad that my days of wearing pants and tunics are almost over. The moment I return to court my aunt will make sure I’m dressed in the best, as I am a Lannister.  
“This is the farthest south I’ve been since I was born,” Jon informs me after helping me off my horse. “We’re not terribly far from my home its just west from here,” I point in the correct direction. “When can we go there?” Jon questions lightly. “I hope soon. I’d rather not stay long in the capital. I just want to see my father, then go home.” “Come young ones!” My uncle calls joyfully over his shoulder. “Let us rest and eat here! Yoren everything is on me. A Lannister doesn't merely pay his debts, but entertains his friends as well.”  
When we enter, the innkeeper’s wife greets us. She's holding a dirty rag with one hand and clutches her dirty apron with the other. “I’m sorry my lord, my lady.” She bows her head respectfully to us. “But we’re full up.” I groan and share a look with Jon, “I really thought I’d get to sleep in a bed tonight.” “No, I do think it’ll be the ground once again,” he replies teasingly. “My men can sleep in the stables,” Tyrion informs the woman. “But my niece and I don’t take up much room.” He jingles his coin purse. “I speak true my lord,” she calls after him. “All the rooms here are full. I'm sorry.”  
He holds up several gold dragons in between his fingers. The best way to get something for him is to bribe. “Is there nothing I can do to remedy this situation?” A man seated at one of the tables looks at Tyrion, “you can have my room.” “Clever man!” Tyrion says flicking the coins to him. “You can manage food at least?” Tyrion says to the woman. She nods and turns back to the kitchen to get some presumably. “Come Yoren, let's dine!” Yoren strides past Jon and I, “Aye my lord.” "Because I'm starving," Tyrion replies.  
“MY LORD AND LADY OF LANNISTER!” A man jumps up from his seat holding an instrument, making me shudder in surprise. “Shall I entertain you while you sup? I can sing to you about your fathers victory at King’s Landing?” I giggle when Tyrion retorts, “nothing would be more likely to ruin my supper.” “Lady Stark!” Tyrion exclaims after turning his head. Jon’s head snaps up and sure enough Catelyn Stark is seated at one of the tables. “What an unexpected pleasure. My niece and I were very sorry to miss you at Winterfell.”  
I can see that she’s cloaked with a single guard. She must have been trying to conceal her identity. I must say she didn't do a very good job. Jon and I move forward and her eyes land on us. “What are you doing here?” She asks Jon, looking quite startled by his appearance. Jon told me how cruel she is to him. “I am Lady Lia’s sworn sword. A reward for saving her life at Castle Black,” he explains softly. I can feel the discomfort coming off of him in waves. I know that he dislikes her but the tension between them is thick. She stands and removes her veil. She eyes me with distaste as I walk to stand at Tyrion’s side. “How very lucky you are then.” I nod, “I was very fortunate that Jon intervened, yes. Without him I could have been killed or worse,” I explain cooly.  
“I was still Catelyn Tulley, the last time I was here,” she says looking around the inn. We are in the riverlands and her father is still the lord. I believe his name is Hoster and he has three children but I can't remember the son's name at the moment. She walks around addressing the men in the tavern. “I envy your father of his fine friends. But I do not understand,” Tyrion says looking at Lady Catelyn in confusion. My uncle makes a sound of disgust at the news of Walder Frey taking another wife on his ninetieth nameday. Catelyn stands in front of us and points her finger at Tyrion. “This man and his family,” she snarls in my direction. “Came into my house as honored guests,” her eyes move around to all the men gathered, “and conspired to murder my son who is only a child.”  
I’m shocked by her words, how dare she accuse us of murder. My jaw drops in complete shock and Tyrion tenses beside me. “A mere boy of ten.” I feel Jon move behind forward to stand next to me. He’s glaring at Catelyn with his hand rested on the hilt of his blade. “In the name of King Robert and all the good lords you serve, I call upon you to seize them. And help me return them to Winterfell to await the kings justice.”  
All the men in the room draw their blades. I stop Jon before he does so in retaliation, my hand gripping his forearm tightly. “Even you cannot fight this many men.” His eyes are hard and we all hold up our hands to surrender. They take what weapons Jon and I am armed with away. “Lady Stark please,” Jon begins. Her hard gaze cuts him off. “I don’t want to hear anything from you,” she snarls. Yoren looks on at us with concern. I hope he’ll pass on the word of this injustice when he makes it to King’s Landing. Our hands our bound with rope and when we’re take outside cloth bags are placed over our heads.  
After being placed on horses Catelyn announces her intentions to take us to Winterfell. It’s hard to ride being bound and blindfolded. My legs and back are sore. After a day of riding, we finally make a stop. I’m relieved when someone lifts me out of my saddle and places me on the ground. “Remove their hoods.” I hear Catelyn’s voice call out. They do so and I see Jon and Tyrion next to me. Fear tingles down my spine; I’ve never been kidnapped before. I always told myself that I would rather fight and die rather then be taken. Anything could happen.  
The musician from the inn is travelling with us and begins to play a retched song. I sigh and stretch my calves. Tyrion looks around, “this isn’t the Kingsroad, and you said we were riding for Winterfell.” I look around at the rocky unfamiliar landscape. “I did,” Catelyn concedes. “Often and quite loudly.” I close my eyes in defeat. At Winterfell we stood a chance with Robb, especially with Jon but Catelyn isn't going to be merciful. She clearly believes we are guilty. “Very clever, they’ll be out in droves looking for Lia and I, only they’ll be looking in the wrong place,” Tyrion concedes. He eyes all the men sitting and I know he has an idea, it's practically sparkling in his eyes. Thank the gods.  
“Word has probably gotten to my father by now,” I realize he must be right and my grandfather will not sit idle in Casterly Rock with us being taken. He'll take this personally and as a threat. “He’ll be offering a handsome reward for my niece and I. Everyone knows that a Lannister always pays his debts.” I quickly gather that he’s trying to appeal to men’s greed. It makes sense none of these men would be particularly wealthy. The amount my grandfather would pay for our ransom is surely more then most noble houses have ever even had. The gold will be enough to turn many heads. I am his heir and Tyrion is his son. Family to him is the most important thing ever.  
“Would you be so kind as to untie us?” Tyrion asks shaking his bound hands at her. “Why would I do that?” She snaps at him. “Do you really think we could run?” He looks back at Jon and I, seated on a pair of rocks next to each other. “They might live if they left me behind, but I would surely die. The hill tribes would take my boots or a shadowcat would eat me for dinner.”  
“Shadowcats and hill tribes are not what you should be worried about.” I see Catelyn looking down on him in hate, eyes narrowed dangerously. I don’t understand why she thinks we would ever hurt a child. “Please,” I interrupt their back and forth arguing. “Lady Catelyn, my uncle and I would never hurt your son. Bran is so sweet.”  
“I don’t believe you were the one to try to murder my son, Lady Lia,” she says looking down at me. I meet her blue eyes in surprise. “Then why are you holding me captive?” “You surely would have fled to your family and come back with an army at your back to save your wretched uncle.” I look away knowing she’s right. That’s exactly what I would have done. Tyrion is one of the few people that actually care about me and what I want. I'd never leave him behind, I'd have returned home and roused the army with grandfather. "What kind of proof do you have of this crime?" I ask her cooly. "I have enough," she replies in the same tone.  
“We’re going to the Vale,” Tyrion guesses suddenly. “You’re taking us to your sister so I may answer for my imagined crimes. Tell me Lady Stark, when was the last time you saw your sister?” I remember Lady Arryn from my time in the capital. She was fretful and mad about the wellbeing of her son. I disliked being in the same room as her, she was almost frightening. She also had aged considerably from having her son. “Five years ago,” Catelyn answers quietly.  
“She’s changed, Tyrion tells her nastily. “She was always a bit touched, but now... you might as well take my head here.” “I am not a murderer, Lannister,” Catelyn bites back at him with a snarl. “Neither am I!” Tyrion snaps at her. "That's the bloody point!" They begin to argue back and forth loudly about evidence and the assassination attempt. "Uncle you're going to make it worse," I snap at him. "You should listen to your niece," Catelyn points out but Tyrion ignores us. "She has far more sense than you."  
The horses begin stomping at the ground and whinnying. I watch them curiously, they'd been quiet this whole time, something must be agitating them and I would guess it's not the arguing. I suppose there could be mice in the shrubbery, they could be spooked. “What kind of idiot arms an assassin with his own blade?” Tyrion asks in despair. “Why can’t you be silent like you friends?” Ser Rodrick asks when he stands at Catelyn’s side. Jon has already tried to speak with Ser Rodrick. He apologized to him and only told him that he was loyal to Catelyn and would do as she commanded, because she was his lady. “Why...” Tyrion drawls out. “Could it be that I’m starting to make sense?”  
I open my mouth to snap at him again, this is getting ridiculous. He needs to hold his tongue. Jon slams into me and forces my body to the ground with his own just as the musician is attacked by some sort of ranged weapon, Jon covers my head with his arms. My cheek is pressed into the dirt. I hear battle cries and Jon jumps back to his feet. I look over and see my uncle crouched near a wall of rocks by Lady Catelyn. The men attacking us have no banner so I immediately assume they’re hill tribesmen. Tribesmen cause many problems in the Vale and are incredibly dangerous. Jon snatches up a fallen axe and cuts through the ropes at his hands. He turns and does the same for me. “Find somewhere to hide!” He shouts at me before slashing the axe at another attacker.  
I dig my fingers into the dirt and haul myself to my feet. I spy a fallen blade a few feet away from me and resolve to get it. I will not wait around to be attacked, I will not be defenseless like Lady Catelyn. Just as I pick it up a large man dressed in ragged clothes grins at me. He swings his own sword at me and my instincts kick in. I’ve been training for years but I’ve never been in an actual battle. I block his swings with mine and find him to be sloppy. He has never had any real training, not like I have. The finest swordmasters in the world were hired to teach me, including my father. I've learned traditional Westerosi style fighting and some of a Bravossi technique that I enjoyed more.  
My arms tire so I sidestep his next swing and stab my blade into the flesh of his belly. Hot blood soaks the blade and runs onto my hands. I almost drop the blade from the feeling. He coughs and more blood hits me in the face. When he falls to the ground I stare at his lifeless body in shock. I just killed that man. He could have a family and I ended his life. I'd never had to kill before.  
The battle rages fiercely around me as I try to regain my focus. Behind me I see my uncle smashing a shield into someone’s head in front of Lady Catelyn; he must have saved her. The last of the tribesmen are killed and I’m still standing above the body holding my bloody blade. I might have taken away someones father, someones brother. His death is on me. Jon hurries over to my side after noticing me. He’s got blood on him as well but it doesn’t seem to be his. I'm thankful he's unharmed.  
He gently takes the sword out of my hands and tosses it aside to the ground. “Lia, it’s over," he whispers while trying to reassure me. "We’re safe.” “I killed him,” I whisper in disbelief. Jon looks over at Lady Catelyn, unsure of what to say. But she’s checking over a heavy breathing Ser Rodrick for wounds. “He would have killed you without a second thought,” Jon murmurs. “You did what you had to, to survive.” “I’ve never killed a man before.” Jon takes his black cloak and uses the edge of it to wipe the blood off my face and hands. “These raiders kill all the time. You stopped him from killing innocents, children even.”  
After speaking with Bronn the sell sword, Tyrion comes to my side. “I’ve never killed either my dear,” he says after sharing a nod with Jon. “I’m sorry you had to endure this.” Most of the guards we were travelling with are dead. Catelyn begrudgingly allows Jon to keep his weapon due to the fact that she knows that he had nothing to do with Bran. She may hate him but she knows he would never harm one of his siblings. She needs an extra man anyway considering how many are dead. I feel safer now that Jon is armed.  
After the attack it doesn’t take long for some of the Knight’s of the Vale to come across us. They are all well dressed with fine arms. I recognize the Arryn sigil on their flags. They greet Catelyn warmly but seem uncomfortable with Tyrion and my presence. It seems the Stark's aren't the only people who distrust the Lannisters. “The Eyrie,” Tyrion says looking up at the fortress. I look upon it in awe, I've always wanted to see the world and while this one is not in the way I've wanted, I'm glad I get to see it. “They say it’s impregnable.” Bronn scoffs next to him, “give me ten decent men and climbing spikes. I’ll impregnate the bitch.” Tyrion laughs and I stare up at the fortress in fear.  
My grandfather could never get an army through here. The path is too narrow and easily defensible. Our men would be slaughtered by ranged fighters. This very well could be the end of the road for my uncle and I. My breathing quickens and I resist the urge to shiver. I don't want to die. I look over to Jon. He shouldn't have to suffer because of me. I don't want him to get hurt here simply because he's protecting me. “I could release you from your vow. You don’t have to be imprisoned with us. Lady Catelyn should let you return to Winterfell, to be with your brothers.” Jon sits up straighter in his saddle. “I won’t leave you unless you force me to.” My lips part slightly in surprise as our eyes meet. “Why would you risk yourself? I’m offering you a way out.” “I care about you,” Jon says softly. “I swore a vow to protect you and I will.”


	3. Chapter 3

In the high hall of the Eyrie, Lady Arryn is extremely angry with her sister. “You bring them here without permission?” I share an uncomfortable look with Tyrion at the fact that she’s breastfeeding her six year old son. I've never even heard of such an old child still breast feeding. It doesn't seem healthy, but she's always been a bit odd about her child. “You pollute my home with their presence?!” The stone hall is surrounded with men carrying shields with the Arryn sigil on them. She has her full strength on display, as if Tyrion and I are going to harm her while imprisoned. She's very defensive. “Your aunt has done a very bad thing,” she whispers to her son. “You remember her, don’t you?” The little boy looks down on us with unfamiliarity. I can't imagine he'd remember Catelyn if he met her five years ago.  
“Isn’t he so beautiful? And strong too? Jon knew it.” Her voice is shaky as she addresses the court. She really must be messed up. I stand rigidly in between Tyrion and Jon. Jon is eyeing the woman in disgust. Ghost is silent by his side. “His last words were the seed is strong. He wanted everyone to know what a good, strong man his son would grow up to be.” Catelyn seems shocked by her own sister. “Lysa,” she says trying to get her sisters attention, she sounds agitated. Her own voice is shaky as if she isn't sure how to proceed. How do you speak to someone you don't even know anymore?  
“You wrote to me about the Lannisters. Warning me to-” “To stay away from them!” Lysa snaps; cutting her off. “I never wanted you to bring them here.” “Mommy?” Robin Arryn finally speaks in his childish voice. “Are those bad people?” “They are,” his mother sweetly replies. “He’s little,” the boy states while pointing at my uncle. “He’s Tyrion, the Imp of House Lannister, and this must be Lady Lia as well.” She acts like she doesn't know me. Her eyes become hard and she wraps her arm protectively around the boy’s shoulders, like we would ever harm a child. “He killed your father. He murdered the Hand of the King!”  
“Oh did I kill him too? I’ve been a very busy man,” Tyrion bites back. “Uncle please,” I whisper tiredly. “Don’t make it worse.” “You will watch your tongue!" She hisses at him. “These men are all Knight’s of the Vale. They all loved Jon Arryn.” I knew Jon Arryn was well loved in all the seven kingdoms, but none more so then in his home. “Any one of them would die to protect me and my beautiful son.” She seems awfully haughty for not even being of the Vale. She's a second born daughter from the Riverlands.  
Tyrion takes a step forward, “If any harm comes to us, my brother Jamie will see that they do.” I hold out a hand to stop him but it's too late. The little boy seems to crack. He jumps out of his mother’s arms with wide eyes. “You can’t hurt us! No one can hurt us in our home,” he cries loudly into the hall. “TELL HIM MOMMY!” Lysa shushes him, trying to calm his outbursts. “He’s only trying to frighten us. All Lannisters are liars.”  
I know Tyrion's threat is sincere. My father is fiercely protective over his family. He’d kill everyone in this room if he had to. He's the best warrior in the seven kingdoms. I doubt any of these men could stop him if they blocked him from us. After the boy calms down he turns back to his mother, “mommy, I want to see the bad people fly. Can we?” “Perhaps you will, my little love.” Catelyn has finally had enough, her eyes are narrowed in fury. “These two are my prisoners. I will not have them harmed!” The sisters look upon each other in silence. Like they are trying to win a staring contest.  
“Ser Vardis," Lisa finally calls out. "Take the prisoners down below to rest. Introduce them to Mord.” Catelyn cuts her off. “Lia is a lady. We will treat her as such.” Lysa sighs, “fine Ser Allysen take the girl to a room and lock her in.” Tyrion and I are separated as I'm dragged away from him. "No," I cry out as two men grip my arms tightly, likely leaving bruises along my forearms. "Uncle!" Jon briskly walks over to Catelyn and speaks in hushed tones before following me with Ghost.  
We’re tossed in a modest sized room and the door slams, locking us in. I hear the click of the bolt. There’s a bed and a few other pieces of furniture. Ghost finds a spot near the window to lie down, untroubled by our situation. I sink onto the bed and put my face in my hands. “I don’t understand," I murmur. "Why do they believe we did these horrible things?” Jon kneels in front of me his hands on either side of me. “There’s been trouble between the Lannisters and the Starks in King’s Landing. I suppose taking the both of you was the easiest way at revenge for Catelyn. I doubt my father would approve.” Whatever trouble is happening, it's obvious we had no part. We've been traveling for months. I haven't even seen the rest of my family for nearly as long. “You know I would never hurt your family right?” I look up at him in concern. I'd hate for him to think that I would be guilty of any kind of crime against the Starks, against his family.  
His expression softens and he gently brings his hand up to my cheek. “Of course I know you wouldn’t, Lia. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” I lean into his touch feeling the warmth from his fingers on my skin. “I’m glad you’re here, Jon," I breath out. "That you didn’t accept my dismissal.” He smiles softly and my heart beats wildly in my chest at the very sight. I've never felt so close to someone, so connected. “I couldn’t leave you here, Lia. Lady Catelyn knows you’re innocent. She is honorable enough to stop you from being harmed. She doesn't want anyone to get hurt.”  
We’re so close together I can feel his breath on my skin. It's almost exhilarating. I look up at him through my eyelashes. His eyes are half shut, only revealing a small portion of the grey color. He seems to be enjoying our closeness. He is licking his lips and I decide what better way to confess my feelings then to kiss him? If I'm going to die what does it matter? I tilt my head up and lean forward, closing what little distance remains between us. His lips are soft underneath mine, exactly how I imagined. Jon's whole body goes rigid when I kiss him like a stiff board.  
I pull away as soon as he freezes; feeling horrible for my actions. That is so inappropriate of me. “I’m so sorry,” I ground out. I hate how sad and pathetic I feel. What if I just ruined everything? Jon is the only person I’ve ever met who understands me. “I shouldn’t have presumed-,” I let out a sigh and press my hand to my head. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.” I look up at him hesitantly; unaware of what is going on in his head.  
But instead of the rejection I expected, he leans forward and presses his lips firmly to mine. I let out a gasp in response, surprised by his actions. I thought that was it, This time our lips move against each other. I wrap my arms around his neck to keep him close to me. He stands pulling me up with him. His arms lock tightly around my waist as he deepens the kiss by opening my mouth with his. I’d only ever kissed a handful of boys back at Casterly Rock, and none of them ever felt like this. Every time he touches me it sends sparks down my spine. The feeling is wonderful, like I'm floating.  
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless and flushed. My green eyes meet his dark ones. “I’ve been wanting to do that for quite some time now,” Jon tells me softly. “Why didn’t you?” “You are a Lady of a great house,” he then gestures to himself, “and I am a bastard with nothing.” I gently take his hand and lace my fingers through his. I didn't know he felt that way, he should have said something. “I don’t care about any of that, Jon. I care about you. Not your name or if you have titles, you.” “You are magnificent,” he murmurs. “I don’t deserve to know someone like you.” “You’ve saved my life twice now. I think you deserve whatever makes you happy.” “You make me happy,” he breathlessly replies. "You make me happy too." 

 

For the next several days Jon and I remain locked in the chamber. Food is brought to us several times a day, but otherwise we have no contact. I often pace back and forth; I'm so nervous about my uncle. He could be being mistreated and I can do nothing about it. He could be dead for all I know. I hate feeling this useless. Ghost thinks my pacing is a game and follows me around the room. Each night Jon sleeps on the floor while I get the bed. I had told him there was enough room for two but he insisted.  
The door opens earlier then usual and both Jon and I jump to alert. This could be it. A guard enters into the room wearing Arryn style armor and he bows upon entering. “My lady I’ve come to escort you to the high hall for your uncles confession.” “Confession?” I ask nervously. What could he be confessing to? Surely not for the crimes of murdering Jon Arryn or the attempted assassination of young Bran Stark. I know he is innocent of both of those. He was home with me when we received the news of Jon Arryn's death and we were at Castle Black when an assassin was sent after Bran. "Yes My lady. Now, if you'll please join me."  
We are brought into the high hall where all the other nobles of the Vale are gathered. They're gathered in the circular area and they seem excited about something, presumably my uncle's confession. I hope he has a plan. Lysa and her son are seated in the high chair, looking down on everyone. Catelyn is standing at the right side of the chair, with a furrowed brow. People are murmuring as we await Tyrion’s arrival. Jon and I share a concerned look while people glare at me.  
Several castle guards bring Tyrion in. He looks no worse for wear besides being dirty and unshaven. His clothes are crumpled but seeing him eases the my mind. I thought perhaps he was being tortured, but he doesn't look injured at all. Thank the gods for small blessings. He sends me a reassuring smile when he takes his place in the center of the hall, just behind the moon door.  
“You wish to confess to your crimes?” Lysa Arryn asks when everyone in the room is silenced. “Yes I do, my lady,” my uncle says reverently. Lysa smiles victoriously at her sister, “the sky cells always break people, dear sister.” “Speak Imp,” she snarls. “Meet your gods as an honest and good man.” My heart sails into my throat. “Where should I begin, lords and ladies? I am a vile man.” I swallow nervously and Jon grips my arm, preventing me from moving forward to him. “I’ve committed too many crimes to even count. I have lied and cheated, gambled and whored.” People murmur quietly to each other as he continues.  
“I may not be trained in the ways of violence but I am quite efficient at convincing others to be violent for me.” I watch as he slowly looks up to Lysa. “I assume you want specifics?” She nods and I can see her hand clutching her son protectively. Like Tyrion could do him harm, honestly she's crazy. “When I was only a boy I saw a servant girl bathing in the river and I stole her robe when she wasn't looking. She was forced to return to the castle naked and crying.” I bring my hand up to my mouth to stop myself from laughing. I see what he’s going to do now. He’s confessing to his former actions but not to the crimes he’s accused of. He's going to anger her.  
People laugh when he describes her breasts. “When I was ten, I stuffed my uncles boots with goatshit.” I squeeze my eyes shut picturing Uncle Kevan discovering the prank, he must have been so furious. “When I was confronted I blamed a poor squire who was flogged for my crime and I escaped unpunished.” He gestures to his crouch with his bound hands. “When I was twelve I milked my eel in the kitchens into a pot of stew, which believe my sister ate later that day.” This time a laugh escapes my lips and Jon shushes me. Cersei would kill him if she ever knew what he had done, regardless that it was years ago.  
Finally Lysa stands up furiously, her fists balled up at her sides. She's shaking and her face is a mask of anger. “SILENCE!” Her voice echoes through the hall. “What do you think you’re doing?” She demands in anger when all the giggling stops. “Confessing my crimes,” he replies simply. “Lord Tyrion, you are accused of murdering the Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, and of attempting to murder my son, Brandon in his bed,” Catelyn informs him rudely. “Oh I’m sorry my ladies,” he says politely while nodding to Catelyn and Lysa. “But I don’t know anything about any of that.”  
“Mord take him back to the dungeon! And find him a smaller cell with a steeper floor,” Lysa calls out to a bald man. Why won’t she believe him? My uncle is innocent and this is an unfair trial. He deserves to be able to collect his own witnesses and evidence in his defense, as is the law. Word has to have reached my grandfather, I can't imagine how angry he was when he received word. Anybody near him must have been frightened because his rage is not something to sneeze at.  
My uncle turns to the crowd and his eyes hover over me for a moment. I sure hope he has a plan, because this could turn ugly fast. I trust his self preservation but I'm still scared. “Is this how justice is done in the Vale?” He demands angrily. “You accuse me of something which I deny. Then you throw me in a cell to freeze or starve? I demand a trial!” “If you’re tried and found guilty, then by your own kings law, you will die.” “I understand the law,” Tyrion stiffly replies. I reach down and squeeze Jon’s hand. I cannot stand by and watch him be murdered for a crime he did not commit. I simply can't.  
“We have no executioner in the Eyrie,” Lysa states lightly. “Open the moon door!” Robin begins to clap with excitement as the door on the center of the floor opens. Wind blows through the opening and my uncle fearfully looks down. Cold wind blows in and goose bumps cover my arms, my hair blowing away from my face. That would be a terrible way to die, falling to your death. “Lord Lannister if you want a trial, that is fine. My son will listen to what you say and pass on a judgment.” Her smile widens when she looks down. Robin is grinning like a fool. “Then you will leave, by one door or the other.” My uncle clicks his tongue. “No need to bother young Lord Robin,” he says walking around. “I demand a trial by combat.”  
People start to laugh and whisper about his size. He certainly isn't the most intimidating opponent. “You have that right,” Lysa says after sharing a concerned look with Catelyn. Only members of nobility can demand trials by combat. Many guards come forward, obviously hoping to be the Arryn champion. Robin once more leaps from his seat and I see him carrying something silver. “MAKE THE BAD MAN FLY!” Lysa shushes him and he returns to her lap.  
“I demand a champion. Same right as you have,” Tyrion says to her firmly. He then teases Ser Virdis for his bravado. “I name my brother, Ser Jamie Lannister as my champion.” The hall erupts in whispers about my father as they often do. “The kingslayer is hundreds of miles from here,” Lysa points out snootily. “Send a raven to him and I’ll wait.” Lysa shakes her head and spits, “the trial will be today.”  
Tyrion turns to the crowd looking slightly worried, father was his best chance. I know he'd ride to get us as soon as he found out we were taken. I'm sure he's worried sick. “Do I have a volunteer?” I pull away from Jon’s grasp and step forward. “I’ll fight for you uncle.” More whispers and people laugh around the room. Mostly about how a women cannot fight. I'll show them. “No!” Tyrion snaps once he catches sight of me. “I do not accept you as my champion.” I stare at him in confusion and everyone watches us with interest. “I love you, Lia. You are completely innocent and you and Jon will leave this place alive even if I do not.” I open my mouth to protest but he cuts me off. “I won’t accept either of you as my champion and that is final.” His eyes move to Jon, who is restraining me once more, his arms locked around mine. "I trust you to return Lia home safely if I don't join you, Jon Snow." Jon nods, "Of course I will, My Lord."  
Jon gently tugs me back to stand beside him. I watch in horror as no one else steps forward. The rest of the hall is silent with only giggles escaping some of the attendees. There has to be someone who can fight for him, someone who has a heart. “Anyone?” The desperation is creeping into his voice. Lysa grins triumphantly. “I think we can assume that no one is willing to fight for you Imp!” Tyrion looks around at everyone gathered and I struggle against Jon. “I’ll stand for the dwarf,” a voice finally announces. I hopefully look over and see the sellsword from our journey here striding over to Tyrion's side. The one who rode next to Tyrion for most of the trip, he must be thinking about the gold he'll receive as a thank you. I let out a breath in relief while everyone else in the room murmurs in anger. These assholes expected my uncle to fight.  
The moon door is pulled open once more and the two men are armed in preparation for their fight. The sellsword only has his sword and light leather armor while Lysa’s champion is fully armed and armored. Tyrion's life depends on this fight, this sellsword needs to win. “FIGHT!” Robin screams into the hall and the men move into formation.  
The pair battle quickly, their swords clashing and echoing through the stone hall. With Ser Vardis putting all his strength into his swings, he looks incredibly strong and powerful. The sellsword fights differently, with more speed. Similar to the Braavosi I trained with back home. People loudly cheer on Ser Vardis and I silently cheer on Tyrion’s champion. I watch in horror as he’s backed up to the moon door. Their swords are locked together and he’s looking down nervously. I don’t even notice that I’m squeezing Jon’s hand, our fingers locked together. The sellsword somehow manages to throw Ser Vardis off and I see the knight starting to tire out. The sellsword is smart, very smart. He knows how to use other people strengths to their advantages, and that is a Bravossi technique, I was right.  
Nobles flee as their fighting draws near the crowd, they run over to the other side of the hall. Finally first blood is drawn in favor of Tyrion. I can see Lysa’s nervousness when she commands Vardis to finally finish him, her voice is weak and anger is flaring in her eyes. But the sellsword once more gains the upper hand and slices the back of Ser Vardis’s legs. Blood squirts from his wounds and he falls to his knees as he screams in agony. I force myself to momentarily look away from the gruesome scene. There isn't any coming back from that. When I return my eyes ahead, he somehow has gotten back to his feet but by now its over. That wound is something you can't ever come back from. When he rushes forward the sellsword trips him and kicks Vardis’s shield away. He stops Vardis’s last attempts easily. People cry and look away when Bronn stabs him in the throat and throws his body out the moon door, watching him as he falls into the sky. I send up a silent prayer to the seven as a thank you for my uncle surviving this ordeal. They truly must have intervened here because there was such a small chance of his survival.  
The hall is silent as he stares up at Lysa and Catelyn. He's waiting for them to release him. My uncle is beaming at the sellsword and nodding his thanks. “Is it over?” Robin asks looking to his mother with a confused frown. He thought he'd win, the little monster. “You don’t fight with honor,” Lysa says in disbelief. “No,” the sellsword concedes. He gestures to the open door, ”he did.” A fat lot of good that did him, is obviously what he's saying. My lessons have taught me that sometimes you've got to play dirty. Tyrion holds his hands out for the jailer to remove his chains. After a nod from Lysa the jailer unlocks the iron cuffs on his wrists.  
Jon and I push past the people around us to return to the floor. I drop to my knees and pull my uncle in for a hug. "Thank the gods you're alright uncle," I whisper to him. “Can I make the little man fly now?” Robin asks sounding bored. My uncle pulls away from my arms and strides across the hall. “Not this little man. My niece and I will be going home.” He holds his hand out to Ser Rodrick, “I believe you have something that belongs to me?”  
After an approving nod from Catelyn he tosses Tyrion his coin purse. Jon nods to Ser Rodrick when he returns our last few weapons and after Tyrion bows we hurry out of the hall with the sellsword. Tyrion tosses the jailer Mord, his coin purse. “A Lannister always pays his debts,” he declares as we pull open the doors. 

 

We leave the castle as quickly as our feet can take us. None of want to be around if they change their mind about letting us go. We are escorted to the Bloody Gate by Knights of the Vale and were none-to-kindly told never to return. Not that we'd want to. I have a feeling wed die if we did. They give us some water and point us in the right direction. That's the only help we get. Tyrion is the most concerned at the fact that we have no food but we all choose to ignore him. I'm just so happy that we're no longer being held captive. After several hours of walking I stop us. My feet are aching and now that night is starting to fall, the temperature is starting to drop and I'm already cold. “Where are we going to go? We can’t walk to the capital!” “What would you have us do?” My uncle asks, casting a look at me over his shoulder. “The roads are too dangerous for us to travel,” I point out. “We could find a ship to take us to the capital or to Lannisport.” Bronn shakes his head quickly. “We should only travel by night and we light no fires.” Jon nods looking to Bronn with interest. “Lia, he’s right. We were already attacked on the way here and that was a large travelling party. Without horses it’ll be a slow trek no matter where we go.” I accept the decision, despite my feet groaning in protest.  
Jon wasn’t wrong when he said the journey would be slow. We’d already been travelling for several days and I don’t even think we’ve even left the Vale. We haven't passed any villages and the terrain is still quite rocky. I've already almost fallen a few times and my hands are pretty scraped up. We will know when we make it to the riverlands because there will finally be more then a stream. All four of us are covered in dirt and hungry. The nights are cold and with only cloaks to cover us, I shiver all night. Bronn has managed to scrounge up things for us to eat but without a fire it’s just some nuts and leaves. Ghost is the best fed out of all of us. He disappears for hours at a time during the day then returns at nighttime with his paws and muzzle covered in blood. I'm envious of his ability to feed himself.  
We find a wandering goat and we all made the easy decision to risk a fire. The meat tastes so good that the four of us devour it without a second thought. That night Bronn takes watch and the rest of us try and find the softest piece of ground to sleep on. It’s colder in the Vale then what I’m used to at home. But with the last few months I’d spent in the north I’m a little more prepared. With the ground so rocky it isn’t easy. But I somehow manage to fall sleep.  
“Wake up,” Bronn’s voice is low and urgent. I jerk awake and notice that Ghost is pulled back on his haunches with barred teeth. The fur on his back is standing on end. The fire's embers have burned so low that they’re almost out. Jon is already on his feet with his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. I quickly recognize that something is certainly wrong. I lurch up and follow suit, my hand edging up to the hilt at my waist. “What’s wrong?” I question once my uncle is awake. The forest is deadly quiet, I hear absolutely nothing but Ghost's growls and my breath.  
Bronn and Jon draw their blades at the same time. Their eyes locked on the forest ahead of us. “Lia, stay behind me,” Jon murmurs when I he glances back at me. I do as he says, fearing more tribesmen or criminals. By now I can hear footsteps and breaking twigs. Tyrion hides behind Bronn, looking hesitant and frightened. We could be in trouble here. I wish we had our guards with us. Ghost growls viciously when a group of people comes out from behind the trees, finally making themselves visible.  
There are easily over a dozen warriors. They’re dressed in various furs and carrying weapons. They don't look like normal travelers. I quickly realize that they must be tribesmen, like the ones that attacked us on the way to the Eyrie, the ones we barely survived with a large amount of men. “Come,” my uncle calls out suddenly. “Share our fire.” I send him an alarmed look as a massive man approaches. What is he doing? Surely this must be some kind of plan or he'll just get us all killed. He looks down at my uncle, “when you meet your gods, tell them Shagga son of Dolf of the Stonecrows sent you.” He turns to his men, “take the girl and kill the others.” Fear sends shivers down my spine. There is only one thing men like this would want with me. Jon holds his blade higher but I know we’re surrounded.  
“I am Tyrion son of Tywin, of Clan Lannister,” my uncle speaks quickly after looking at me. “How do you want to die Tyrion son of Tywin?” “In my own bed,” he quickly retorts with a smile. “At the age of eighty with my own wine and a girls mouth around my cock.” Several men laugh including Shagga. At least Tyrion is going out with a joke.  
“Alright take the half-man too, he can entertain the children. Kill the others.” Bronn draws his dagger and Tyrion lunges for his arm to stop him. “No!" He says to Bronn and Jon as they raise their weapons. "My house is rich and powerful. If you see us through these mountains my father will shower you with gold.” I know he’s right. My grandfather would pay anything to get us back. He'd even pay savages. “We have no use for a half-mans promises.” “Oh well, what do the stonecrows do when the Knights of the Vale ride by? Hide behind rocks?” I groan, “Tyrion lets not insult the people who want to kill us.” Tyrion ignores me and continues. “Are those the best weapons you could steal? Good enough for raiding villages I suppose,” he concedes. “But what about when people start to fight back? Lannister smiths shit better steel.”  
Angered, Shagga swings the axe at Tyrion. Jon holds me back by thrusting his arm in front of me, dragging me away from the swing. Tyrion has a cut on his cheek but it's not as bad as I thought it would be. “You think you can win Shagga over with gifts?” Tyrion looks at me and takes one of the golden rings off his finger. He hands it over, “that ring there, is worth more than everything your tribe owns.” He looks back once more at the three of us. “But if you help us, Shagga son of Dolf, I won’t just give you silly little trinkets.” He holds his hands up and looks around. “I’ll give you this.”  
Shagga questions, “what is this?” “The Vale of Arryn. They want me dead. I believe it is time for new lords of the Vale.” My mouth drops open in shock. He can’t just give away the Vale of Arryn. The Arryn's have ruled over the Vale for centuries. They were once kings of this region before the Targaryen invasion, by Aegon the Conqueror. Though the stonecrows seem to accept this offer; and clasp Tyrion’s hand in friendship. 

 

The tribesmen easily guide us out of the mountains. I'm sure they know its passes better then anyone else. I stay close to Jon and Bronn the entire trip. Ghost also is very wary of them. I don't trust these men at all. Tyrion is lucky that he's a fast talker or they'd all be dead and I'd be in a horrible situation. Even thinking about it sends shivers down my spine. Yet again I'm saved just in time. Someday, someone isn't going to make it. I can feel it in my bones. We make our way down into a valley where easily identifiable red Lannister tents line the grass and I've never seen anything so welcoming. Tyrion grins up at me triumphantly. “There, I told you we would be fine.” I nervously look back at the tribesmen leering at me. That's all some of them have done since we met them. “I’ll feel better when I’m away from them.” Jon nods when I turn back to him. “I will too. But what is your grandfather doing out here with an army?” I turn around to face forward and cooly answer, “He’s going to war.” Catelyn Stark started a war by taking us, this bloodshed will be on her. I don't feel too bad right now. She captured us, forced my Uncle into prison, then went us into the Vale with no protection. We could be dead.  
We walk into the camp with Tyrion and I leading the way. The Lannister men seem very unsure when we walk by but none of them stop us. Considering how dirty we are, we must not be very recognizable. All of them fall silent at the sight of the stormcrows. I know that they must look terrifying. I think they look scary. Every child is told stories of the men who live in the Vale, the ones who have no lord or king; similar to the wildings who live beyond the Wall. Mothers scare their children into behaving with tales of men like the Stormcrows. We make our way to the command tent which is easily identifiable as the largest and the one with our sigil flying above it and embroidered on each side, my families tent.  
“Lia!” My grandfather throws his chair back to stand when we enter, his eyes bright with happiness. My uncle Kevan looks down at Tyrion. “Tyrion,” he addresses cooly. My grandfather walks over to me when he sees all the men entering the tent. He gently grabs my chin and looks me over, turning my face to each side. “Are you hurt?” He demands casting an angry look over at the people with us. “Did anybody touch you?” I shake my head while pulling my chin away from his fingers. “No, I’m fine grandfather, thank you.”  
“Uncle! Father!” Tyrion shouts from behind us. Grandfather looks away from me and uncle Kevan wraps a blanket around my shoulders. "I'm glad you're alright, Lia." "Thank you Uncle Kevan," I reply softly while tugging the blanket tighter around my body, hopefully hiding the mud from sight. “It seems the rumors of your demise were unfounded.” “Sorry to disappoint you,” Tyrion snaps back. “Who are your companions?” He asks in distaste.  
With a reassuring smile from Tyrion I decide to go first. “Grandfather, this is Jon Snow. He saved me when I was attacked at Castle Black and several times when we were on the road. He is now my sworn sword. I owe him my life.” Kevan and my grandfather share a concerned look when they see Ghost sitting patiently behind Jon. “Your father is Ned Stark,” my grandfather states plainly. “Yes, my lord,” Jon replies politely. “Then you know that his wife has declared war on House Lannister. How does that make you feel?”  
Jon takes a deep breath and I can’t imagine how hard this must be for him. “I love my father and siblings very much. But I made a vow to protect Lady Lia from anyone who might do her harm, including my own family.” “You saved my granddaughter? What happened?” I open my mouth to answer but he cuts me off. “I want to hear it from him.” “She was grabbed in a corridor by two men of the Night’s Watch. They held her at knifepoint. When I entered the corridor I stopped them," Jon continues after I give him an encouraging smile. "And on the road a group of men from a hill tribe attacked us. I fought and killed several but Lady Lia can defend herself quite well.” I hide a smile and I’m impressed with how well he’s handling all this. My grandfather is a very intimidating man. Some would say the most intimidating man in Westeros. “Very well,” he says after a moment. “I thank you for protecting my granddaughter when I could not. You are welcome here with us, Jon Snow.”  
Tyrion then introduces his companions and I see Jon let out a breath in relief. He told me he was scared of the introduction, but he did wonderfully. “This is Shagga son of Dolf, chiefton of the stonecrows. And here we have Bronn son of-,” Tyrion trails off awkwardly. “You wouldn’t know him,” Bronn answers quickly. “May I present my Lord father, Tywin son of Titus of House Lannister. Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West.” He strides forward and pours himself some wine while my grandfather addresses the tribesmen. He's certainly wasting no time getting a drink.  
“Kind of you to go to war for me, father.” “You left us no choice,” Grandfather snaps back at him. “The honor and future of our house was at stake,” he says while casting a concerned look at me. “Your brother never would have submitted to capture like you did.” “That is where Jamie and I are different.” “Where is father?” I ask interrupting their inevitable arguing. "I would like to see him." “Jamie took half of our force to fight some of the riverlords. He smashed them at the Golden Tooth and now he’s laying siege to Riverun. Catelyn Stark’s home.” I share a look with Jon and he pointedly looks away from my gaze. This is certainly awkward, but if Jon wants to leave he knows all he has to do is ask me.  
“And the Starks?” Tyrion questions. “Lord Eddard?” “Is our hostage.” My grandfather states firmly. “He can’t lead any armies from a dungeon cell.” Jon’s head snaps back up; his eyes flaring with anger. I quickly shake my head at him and he looks away from me again. He must be so upset with all this. “How did my sweet sister convince Robert to imprison his dearest friend?” My grandfather leans back in his chair. “Robert Baratheon is dead. Joffery sits on the Iron Throne now.”  
They seem so pleased by this turn of events. My uncle Kevan is practically beaming. “Cersei rules, you mean,” Tyrion spits out. “Stark’s son has called his banners. He’s moving south with a large and strong host.” Jon is practically shaking but no one but me is looking at him. “A green boy,” Tywin says nastily. “One taste of a battle and he’ll run back to his home in Winterfell like a wounded pup.”  
“The boy has a certain forcefulness, father. I think you’d like him.” Tyrion points out after noticing my worried expression. Tyrion then has to confess to all that he offered the stonecrows in return for our safe delivery here. A servant comes in and kneels before my grandfather. “Pardon my intrusion, milord. I’ve been told to inform you that the northmen are crossing the neck just now.”  
Tywin stands and grips the edges of the wooden table. “So the wolf is going to rush into the lion’s jaws," he muses. "Kevan get the men in formation." My uncle hurries from the tent to do as he’s bid. He's always followed my grandfather's every command, very much the little brother. “Send word to Jamie that I will be marching against Robb Stark.” The servant hurries away to follow his orders, probably to dispatch a messenger.  
“It is said that the men of the mountain clans are ferocious and great warriors," Tywin says looking at Shagga. "Fight with me against my enemies and I’ll give you everything my son promised you and more.” Shagga nods and his eyes move to Tyrion. “Only if the half-man fights with us.” Tyrion drops the cup he was holding in shock. Tywin nods once more and turns to me, his finger pointed at my chest. “You will stay here in camp until I come back. You will do as I say, Lia.”  
I open my mouth to protest but nod meekly. “I’ll leave some guards here for your protection.” He eyes Jon out of the corner of his eye and pulls me aside. “You trust this boy? Ned Stark’s bastard?” “With my life,” I reply evenly. “Even when we’re going up against his brother?” Tywin questions doubtfully. “Jon is honorable. He made a vow to protect me until I release him from it. He takes after his father. He would never betray me.” He sighs, “Alright then I trust your judgment on this. Someday all these hard calls will be yours to make.” “I know,” I reply in a voice barely above a whisper. He briefly touches my cheek in a momentary show of affection before striding out of the tent.

 

I’m not allowed into the war council this time so I’m sent to a tent my grandfather has had prepared for me. I am bathed and dressed, fitting to my status. The dress that a servant gave me is long-sleeved. It’s red with golden threaded designs. It’s one of my favorites from home. Grandfather must have assumed I would be returned to him here as some of my belongings are also here. I feel more comfortable surrounded by guards and far away from the leering tribesmen. I finally catch my breath. After so long traveling and worrying about dying. It is nice to have a single moment of peace. Guilt overwhelms me after I think that. There is a battle going on at this very moment and I'm sitting here thinking of peace, it's despicable.  
Jon is seated at the desk and Ghost is sitting in front of me letting me pet his soft fur. “I’m sorry Jon,” I tell once I can’t stand the silence. I can see the agony in his eyes. “I feel like I’m betraying them, all of them. My father and especially my brother.” “Do you want to go to him? I’ll be safe here in the camp. I could release you.” He stands and closes the distance between us. Ghost moves out of the way for his master. “You have a good heart, Lia. If anyone can help my family, it’s you. Maybe you can help convince your cousin to grant mercy on my father and send my sisters home, end this before it can truly begin. There doesn't need to be war.”  
“Joffery is not like most people,” I begin awkwardly. Jon’s frown deepens and so do the worry lines on his face. “I’m sorry but he’s awful," I blurt out. "He’ll be a terrible king, I know it.” He's silent for a few moments; probably processing the fact that I just told him our future king is a monster. “I love my brother I do,” he finally says with a small smile. “But you are unlike any person I’ve ever met. You gave me a chance when everyone else in my life wanted to send me off to the Wall to be forgotten. You’ve given me a chance at not only living a life but being happy.” I’m touched by his words but still skeptical.  
“Your loyalty does you credit Jon. But I would respect your decision if you wish to stand by what you believe in, by your family. I would understand.” “I’m standing by you,” he says simply. “Jon I don’t know what to say.” “Tell me how you feel,” he answers meeting my eyes. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I breathe out, stepping closer to him. I press my lips to his and he reciprocates immediately. Our tongues tangle together before his overpowers mine. His hands hold me steady with one on the small of my back and the other cupping my face. Every worry I just had dissipates like puddles in the sun.  
He rests his forehead against mine while we catch our breath. “I do believe that is my new favorite thing,” he cheekily says. My heart flutters in my chest at his words. “Oh?” I question raising my eyebrows. “Do you disagree?” “A lady would never admit to such a thing, Jon Snow.” I giggle, “but I agree with you.”  
The next morning the camp is in a rush to meet the northmen. They’re only a mile north from here, ready for battle. I bid my uncle and grandfather goodbye and return to Jon’s side in my tent. He’s nervous about Robb being out there and there’s nothing he can do about it. I hate seeing how torn up he is. I don’t know how he does it, staying here with me when his brother is out there fighting a war for their father and sisters.  
Several hours’ later soldiers begin to return. Many are injured but they tell me that it was a victory for us. I know Jon is worried sick but he doesn’t show it. We’re given horses and allowed to join my grandfather on the battlefield, which means the fighting is over. I can see him talking to my uncle, both who seem unhurt. I spur my horse forward to meet them. “Grandfather, Uncle, I’m glad you’re both alive.” I frown noticing Tyrion’s twisted expression. “Are you wounded?” “I’ll be alright, my dear,” he reassures me. “Nothing to worry about.” His tone of voice concerns me.  
“The scouts were wrong,” Tywin spits out. “There were only 2,000 Stark bannermen not 20,000.” Tyrion looks around at all the carnage in the area. “Did we get the Stark boy at least?” I can see Jon’s hands tighten on his reigns next to me. I wish I could reach out and comfort him but I can’t imagine how angry grandfather would be if he knew what my feelings were for him. “He wasn’t here,” he replies and Jon’s tension eases. “Where was he?” “With his other 18,000 men,” Tywin states angrily. “Wait- where are they?” Tyrion asks as my grandfather rides away. I gasp and bring my hands to cover my mouth. “He split his forces so grandfather would turn his attention away from Riverrun. He attacked father!” All the blood drains from Tyrion’s face. I leap back onto my horse and tear after my grandfather leaving the others behind me.  
“Do you think he’s still alive?” I breathlessly ask when I reach them. “Your father is a valuable prisoner. They would have captured him rather then killed him.” I feel instant relief. “We should negotiate then. We could return Ned Stark to placate the north. We can't leave father with them.” “That isn’t too bad of a plan. We’ll still have the Stark girls as hostages to ensure their good behavior,” Kevan concedes. Tywin nods slowly; his eyes still raking over the blood filled battleground. “I’ve taught you well, my dear,” he says after acknowledging me with a smile. I'm so worried about father, I hope he's alright.  
After discussing more tactics I return to camp with my news. Jon and Ghost await me in my tent. “I have good news!” Ghost leaps happily to his feet to greet me. “What is it?” Jon asks quietly when I toss my cloak aside. “Your brother won his battle and captured my father,” I whisper softly. Jon’s expression changes to happiness then sadness as he gently takes my hand. “I’m sorry.” “I convinced my grandfather to exchange your father for mine.” “How did you manage that?” He asks in shock. “He loves my father,” I answer softly. “He doesn’t wish ill will on your family and neither do I. We want to end this peacefully.” “What of my sisters?” I grimace, “your sisters will remain in the capital to ensure peace between us and the North. Sansa is still promised to my cousin.”  
“Thank you,” he murmurs leaning closer to me. I take a deep breath; smelling his scent of pine and leather. “This is what is best for my family too,” I explain softly. “I don’t want to force our people to fight a war on two fronts, not with Renly and Stannis in the south.” I turn my head to the side and he’s so close our noses bump together. “That’s very smart of you,” Jon says and my eyelids flutter closed. "What can I say, I'm very gifted."  
He leans down the rest of the way and our lips touch. I bring my hand up to his jaw, tracing his stubble. Our kiss deepens when I open my mouth and our tongues move against each other. One of his hands holds the small of my back pressing me forward into him and the other is tangled in my hair at the back of my head. Our kiss is heated and passionate. The kind the girls at Casterly Rock told me about, the ones that curled your toes and took your breath away. I can now understand what they were talking about.  
Jon pulls away first; red faced and breathing hard. “I-” I begin but stop, still trying to catch my breath. “You are incredible,” Jon says stroking the side of my flushed cheek. “I’m lucky to have you by my side,” I tell him softly. 

 

The next day I’m called to the command tent for a meeting. I’m seated at my grandfather’s right hand, across from uncle Kevan. Tyrion is seated across the table at the other end. Jon is not allowed to attend these meetings with me due to his brother being the one we’re discussing. I’m just thankful grandfather allowed Jon to stay with me here instead of sending him away. He trusts my judgement about him.  
“He has my son,” grandfather suddenly bursts out. All our bannermen avoid his hard gaze. “The Stark boy appears less green then we thought at first,” Tyrion declares. “His wolf killed a dozen men and twice as many horses.” Another man cuts in, “We have one of those wolves now! Let’s use it against him.” I turn to face him, appalled he would think I would let that happen. “Jon is my sworn shield and I won’t ask him to fight against his brother, nor will his wolf. It's disgusting to think about and you should be ashamed of yourself for wishing someone to become a kin-killer.” My voice is cold and commanding just as I’ve been taught to use. They all fall silent after I've spoken, not wishing to go against me, especially not in front of my grandfather.  
“Is it true about Stannis and Renly?” One man hesitantly asks. The rumors must be flying through camp about their rebellion. “The Baratheon brothers have taken up arms against us, Jamie captured, and his army scattered. This is a catastrophe,” Kevan declares, sounding defeated. “Lia’s idea the other day is sound. We must sue the Stark’s for peace so we can ride against Robert’s brothers.” Tyrion tosses his glass to the floor startling me. It shatters on the ground. “There’s your peace,” he points out.  
“Joffery saw to that when he decided to remove Ned Stark’s head.” I drop my own glass onto the table. It doesn’t break but thuds loudly. “He did what?” I ask raising my voice. “Lord Eddard Stark was beheaded for treason. We just received word this morning,” Kevan informs me softly. “Why wasn’t I informed?” I snap at him. The table falls into an argument and I sink into sadness. I have to tell Jon that his father is dead. I can’t imagine what he’s going to do now. Poor Jon, his heart will be broken. I know he idolized his father in basically every single way. And he's been listening to me worry about my father who is captured.  
My grandfather shouting pulls me back into reality. “THEY HAVE MY SON!” He turns around to glare at all his men in the room. “Get out, all of you,” he commands and everyone scurries to do as he asks. I pull my glass upright and gather my skirts to leave the tent. “Not you, Lia, Tyrion.” Grandfather calls out behind us. Tyrion shares a worried look with me and we return to our seats at the table. He doesn’t speak till everyone leaves, meaning this is a family matter.  
He pours us each a glass of wine, which surprises me. He usually discourages Tyrion from drinking. “You both were right about Eddard Stark. It would have been the perfect exchange. Jamie for Eddard,” he mutters. I bow my head feeling saddened for the Stark family. Ned was a good man and didn’t deserve death at Joffery’s hands. Joffery has ruined everything! “It would have given us more time to deal with Robert’s brothers,” Tywin continues.  
“But now,” he says in anger. “Madness and stupidity.” He takes something out of his pocket and throws it onto the dark wooden table. He then proceeds to insult Tyrion, and I decide to stay quiet. He declares his intentions for the following weeks. It seems he is sending Ser Gregor Clegane with men to burn the riverlands and the remaining men will regroup at Harrenhall. “You both will go to King’s Landing,” he finishes. “And do what?” Tyrion asks softly.  
“Rule,” he states clearly. “Tyrion, you will serve as Hand of the King in my stead. Lia, I want you to make sure things at court go better. The Stark girls are there and may trust you since you have their brother's loyalty. Use that.” I nod, Jon will want to be there for his sisters and I will protect them. Tywin continues, “You will bring that boy king and your foolish sister to heel too. If you get a whiff of treason from any of those others, Baelish, Varys and Pycelle,” his gaze hardens as he speaks. “Head spikes I presume, “Tyrion cuts in. “Why not Kevan? Why me?” “You’re my son,” Tywin declares simply while standing up.  
He holds his hand out to me and pulls me to my feet. “I need to speak with your uncle on one other matter. You best pack some of your things up so you can leave. I’m sending a large guard for you to use in the capital. I’ve made it clear that they listen to you and not anyone else.” “Thank you grandfather,” I reply softly. “Be safe my dear girl.” I leave the tent and slowly make my way back to my own. I can hear the screams of the injured and dying men. The smell of food and blood assaults my senses. So many of the injured will die without proper care and we don't have a Maester, only healers and surgeons.  
I push the flap open to the tent and enter. I stop and jerk backwards, almost loosing my balance when Ghost growls viciously at me. He's teeth are bared at me, just as they were when tribesmen attacked us in the Vale. Jon is turned away from me, facing the other side of the tent. “Jon?” I ask quietly, my voice shaky with fear. I’ve never been wary of Ghost before now. Jon slowly turns around and I see his face streaked with tears. My heart sinks knowing that he heard the news from someone else first. “Did you know?” He demands angrily; causing Ghost to growl loudly again. “No!” I reply quickly. “I only found out at the meeting. I had no idea I swear.”  
Jon sinks onto the bed and buries his face in his hands. I hesitantly look at Ghost before taking a few steps forward. When I am sure Ghost will allow me to pass I take a seat on the bed next to Jon. “I’m so sorry,” I gasp out. I gently place my hand on his shoulder and he collapses onto my lap. His whole body shudders as he sobs. I try and comfort him as best I can but I don’t know what to say. This is a devastating loss for him. I'm heartbroken by my father being captured.  
“I want to put a sword through Joffery’s throat,” he cries out. I sit still as thoughts flood my head, all of them bad. “I will release you from your vow,” I say softly and rub my hands across his trembling back. A few tears fall, unbidden onto my dress. “If you wish to leave and join your brother I will let you go. You deserve to honor your father's memory. To fight for justice for him.” He doesn’t respond so I continue. “Or, if you wish to return to your brothers in Winterfell, I will let you go.” This time it comes out as a sob.  
“Why?” Jon asks suddenly. He sits up and we stare at each other. Both of our eyes are red with fresh tears on our faces. “Because I think I’m in love with you.” My voice is no higher then a whisper. He stills as if frozen by something. I watch silently waiting for him to speak. “I- er,” his eyes are shining when he looks up at me. “You don’t have to say anything,” I quickly interject. “I just- I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I want you to be happy.”  
I quickly stand up and wipe my eyes. “I’m- just, I’m going to go." I take a deep breath to compose myself. "It was an honor to have you serve me, Jon Snow.” I dust off my dress but before I can leave he catches my hand. “No! Don’t!” Hope fills my heart and I turn to face him, our fingers are tangled together between us. “I just-” he begins slowly. “I think I love you too.” I close the distance between us and jump into his arms, and he easily catches me. “Oh thank the gods,” I murmur into his neck. He sets me back on my feet and pushes a stray curl behind my ear. “I’m sorry I made you second guess yourself.”  
“I’m so sorry about your father,” I tell him softly. “My grandfather is sending my to King’s Landing with my uncle. He’s given me charge of your sisters. I promise I’ll do everything I can for them.” He leans down and kisses me passionately. “Then I will come with you,” he states firmly. “You will?” I ask hopefully. “I will be by your side now and always. I promise, Lia.”


	4. Chapter 4

Our trip to the capital doesn’t take very long. This side of the Kingsroad is generally secure by our forces. The war is more to the north of here, centered in the riverlands. We encountered no trouble due to the amount of guards my grandfather sent with us. Bandits would have to be very brave to attack us. I am suspicious of Tyrion and the woman he brought with him from the war camp. She has curly dark hair and she’s very beautiful. I heard her speak to Bronn a few times and she has a very noticeable foreign accent, perhaps from one of the cities from across the sea. I’m guessing that she is my uncle's lover but I haven’t had the courage to speak to him about it yet. Grandfather won’t be pleased if he finds out. Tyrion isn't supposed to bring his lovers out of the whorehouse where grandfather insists they belong. He's foolishly making a bad decision. Tyrion never shows me that part of his life but I've known for quite awhile.  
Jon has been quiet for the duration of the trip. He only speaks softly to me and others only if spoken to. I can see the grief written all over his face; he’s devastated. He loved his father and I can’t imagine how this must feel. It's hard enough knowing my father has been captured. I hope that he’ll be able to control his temper when we are brought before my rotten cousin. But I know he’ll be pleased to see both of his sisters when we reach the city. I know he's entrusting me to keep them safe. He needs to focus on them and not Joffery. I hope he can keep his temper in check.  
Jon’s expression is filled with awe when the Red Keep finally comes into sight. It's nice to see a smile on his face rather then his usual frown. The castle towers over the rest of the city. The sun is shining all over Blackwater Bay, giving off a beautiful sight. “What do you think?” I ask softly as we ride down the hill. “I saw drawings in a few of Maester Luwin's books, but I never thought I’d get to see it in person.” “I thought you’d like it,” I reply with a small smile. “There are all sorts of hidden passages inside. Every time I used to visit my father as a girl, I would search for more secrets. I even got lost a few times.” He laughs softly; watching as Ghost darts between our horses. "I can picture you running around," Jon says while chuckling. "Blonde hair in disarray, skinned knees," he teases me. "That's pretty accurate," I agree, remembering the way my Septa would fuss when I was re-delivered to her after being found in various rooms in the castle. I remember the king thought it was funny.  
“Are you ready to face the music, Lia?” Tyrion interrupts us as he stops his horse next to ours. “How bad do you think it’ll be?” “If I know my nephew and my sister, which I do," he adds cheekily. "I believe the city will be falling into chaos.” I grimace as I picture starving people in the streets cursing my family’s name. An unhappy population could be a disaster. We rely on them as much as they rely on us. “How are we supposed to help?” “I suppose we’ll learn soon enough.”  
We aren’t greeted when we enter the city, which is strange. Every time I have come before, a royal party had always met me at the city gates, escorting me safely to the keep. People usually line the street to watch visitors pass, but this time only a few people glance our way. Tyrion seems to be thinking on the same lines as me, when we ride through the gates. His lips are twisted into a concerned frown. The city is calmer then I had predicted. The markets are subdued with only a few gold cloaks walking along to keep the peace. I thought people would be angry due to the fact that a war is being waged not too far away from the city, but all seems serene. We make our way up Aegon’s Hill to the Red Keep.  
I stop just before entering the keep. I don't wish to go in blind. “Excuse me,” I call out to a gold cloak passing by. Tyrion and Jon both turn to me in alarm. “Yes, my lady?” The man approaches and bows his head. “Where is everyone? Why weren’t we greeted at the gate?” I question while looking down upon the man. “They are all at the tournament for the kings nameday, my lady.” Why would Joffery be hosting a tournament when the country is being torn apart by war? “Thank you,” I nod to him before turning back to the others.  
“Well?” Tyrion leans forward on his horse, with his eyes sparkling with interest. “Joffery is hosting a tournament in the Red Keep for his nameday. I daresay that’s where we should be going.” “I suppose you are right,” he gestures ahead. “Shall we?” I meet Jon’s eyes before spurring my horse forward first, to make my way up the stairs.  
There is some sort of commotion going on when we enter the grounds. Gasps and sounds of the crowd reach my ears. Everyone is looking on where the Kingsguard seem to be restraining someone by force. “Remember what I said,” I whisper to Jon. He nods but I can see he anger shining in his eyes when he sees Joffery up on the dais, the man who murdered his father. If Jon says anything out of turn Tyrion and I are going to have a problem. I doubt we'd be able to talk him down. “Beloved nephew!” Tyrion calls out joyously from beside us. “We looked for you on the battlefield, but alas you were no where to be found.” I resist the urge to smack him for talking down to Joffery in front of everyone. Sometimes I think he doesn't have any self control when he talks to people.  
A shocked expression crosses Joffery’s face when he looks down at us. I bet he didn't expect that greeting. “I have been here, ruling over the seven kingdoms,” he states as if obvious. I see Sansa’s eyes widen at the sight of her brother and direwolf behind me. Jon quickly shakes his head at her and casts another glare at Joffery. I hope she’s smart enough to understand his meaning, and she doesn't speak so she must. “Well, what a fine job you’ve done,” Tyrion continues sarcastically. I step forward and bow my head. “Joffery it is good to see you well. The crown suits you,” I lie easily. He looks like an ass in it truthfully. Just the way he's seated makes him look arrogant. Tyrion takes Myrcella’s hand, “look at how beautiful you are.” “And you,” he says turning to Tommen. “You are going to be even bigger and stronger then the Hound. But much more attractive.” He giggles in delight.  
I find it strange that my Aunt Cersei is not here. She almost always attends such things, especially this one, since it is in Joffery’s honor. Joffery sneers at us, “we heard you were both dead. Killed in the Vale.” Myrcella gets up and crosses the stage to hug me. “I’m glad you aren’t dead.” I return her embrace happily, “I am as well, Myrcella. I missed you. Have you been well?” She nods quickly and casts a look over to Joffery, but doesn't say anything. Tommen also gets up from the bench to hug me.  
Tyrion fills a goblet of wine for himself and moves to address Sansa. Her bright blue eyes have still not left Jon. “My lady,” he says inclining his head to her. “I’m very sorry for your loss.” Before she can respond Joffery steps in. “Her loss?” I can hear his voice rising in anger. “Her father was a confessed traitor.” “It’s still her father,” Tyrion cuts in softly. “Surely having so recently lost your own, you can sympathize with her.”  
All eyes fall on her and she tears her gaze away from Jon. I can see just how nervous she is by the way she looks around. Her eyes are red from the crying she has most likely been trying to hide. Some wouldn't know what to look for but I can see it quite easily. “My father was a traitor,” she declares blankly. “My mother and brother are traitors too. I am only loyal to my beloved Joffery.” My heart goes out to her at the obvious hopelessness she has. I can hear Bronn murmuring something to Jon. I hope he’s telling him not to do something stupid, because even I can't stop Joffery from acting.  
“Of course you are,” Tyrion says gently, but I know he doesn’t believe her. He’s always been so good at reading people. He's the one who taught me. She finally looks away and I can see her bright blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Why is that beast here?” Joffery demands catching sight of Ghost. I see Sansa look up again, this time with more fear. “Your grace,” I begin reverently as to please him. “This is Jon Snow. He’s my sworn sword. He made a vow to protect me and has saved my life several times.” I hold my breath as the group falls into silence.  
Joffery eyes Jon with distaste. “You saved my cousin?” “Aye, your grace.” Jon replies in a slightly cold voice. “Why do you have that beast?” “This is Ghost,” he sees Myrcella and Tommen looking cautiously at the creature. “You don’t have to be afraid. Ghost is trained and well behaved. You can pet him if you like.” Joffery watches his siblings get up and slowly make their way over, but he doesn’t join them. Ghost licks Tommen’s hands and leans into Myrcella’s hesitant touch when Jon nods to the wolf. Joffery sighs when they start to giggle in delight. “Then I suppose I should thank you for saving my cousin,” he says casting a look at me. “It is an honor to protect her,” Jon says awkwardly and I imagine he's picturing hitting Joffery with something or sending Ghost after him.  
“Enjoy your nameday, your grace,” Tyrion cuts in as he starts to walk away. “I wish I could stay and celebrate with you but there is work to be done.” "What work?" I make to follow him after Myrcella returns to her cushioned seat. “I wish you all a wonderful time at the tournament,” I add after a curtsey. I stride away and Jon hurries after me.  
“Sansa seems alright,” I whisper when we are far enough away. “Alright?” Jon spits angrily at me. “She’s being held captive by the twat that killed our father!” I nervously look around but the hall is deserted beside my uncle who is much further ahead. “Keep your voice down,” I hiss at him. “The letter my Uncle has from my grandfather has said that the Stark girls will be under my care. I’ll do everything I can to protect them. I promise.” Jon is silent for a moment as he looks around the castle. “Where is Arya? She wasn’t with Sansa.” I frown, realizing that he speaks the truth. You'd think she'd be with her sister. Having her seen at court would get back to the Stark's who surely have allies. That is very odd. “I don’t know. Perhaps she wasn’t allowed to attend the tourney.”  
“Lia,” Tyrion calls out. “I daresay we must continue to my dearest sister on our own. Jon can be escorted to your chambers to wait for you to return.” I squeeze Jon’s hand, “I shouldn’t be gone too long. We can try and speak to your sisters when I return.” Jon nods and watches us both walk away with Ghost by his side.  
Tyrion whistles as we make our way to the small council chamber. He's obviously quite cheerful. “Don’t get up,” he says to all the members upon entering. “More ravishing then ever, big sister,” he kisses Cersei’s cheek. “Aunt Cersei,” I greet timidly, well aware of her coldness towards me. “It is good to see you after such a long time away.” Tyrion greets the other members of the council just as joyously. “Pardon our intrusion friends. Lia and I have only just arrived in the city. Although we were quite disappointed not to be greeted upon entry.” He makes his way around the table into the final seat. “What are you doing here?” Cersei continues to demand, her eyes raking over him. “It has been a remarkable journey," Tyrion says looking toward me. "Has it not my darling niece?”  
I look at him, feeling slightly amused as he pours himself wine from a golden jug. “I pissed off the edge of the Wall. Slept in a sky cell in the Vale. Fought with the hill tribes against the northmen. Ah, so many adventures,” he adds fondly. “Why are you both here?” Cersei demands. “This is the small council.” “Yes,” Tyrion drawls out. I know he’s been waiting to play this card since the moment he got it. “I do believe the Hand of the King is allowed to attend these meetings, correct?”  
“Father is Hand of the King,” Cersei corrects him with a sneer. Tyrion pulls out the letter and hands it to Varys. “Yes, but since he is so very busy fighting a war he sent this.” Varys breaks my grandfather’s seal and reads the letter. “It seems, your father,” he says to Cersei. “Has deemed Lord Tyrion serve as Hand in his place.” Disbelief crosses her features. “OUT! ALL OF YOU!” Cersei screeches and slams her closed fist on the table.  
I sink into a chair waiting for them to argue like they always do. Sometimes I wish I had a sibling, but when I see these two I don’t. I can't understand how you can treat your family like the way they do, I'll never understand. “How did you trick father into this?” “If I was able to trick father,” he says with an eye roll. “I’d be emperor of the world by now,” Tyrion continues with a grin. “You brought this on yourself.” “I did nothing,” she snaps at him. “Yes, you did nothing when your son called for Ned Stark’s head.” I nervously look between them. I know it’s best not to say anything in a situation like this. I'd rather their anger not turn to me.  
“Now the North has risen up against us.” “I tried to stop it-” “Did you? Now that action will haunt our family for a generation.” Cersei scoffs and I see her annoyance as clear as day. But Tyrion is right, Cersei did nothing. “Robb Stark is a child.” “He has won every battle against our father. Do you understand that we are losing this war? This war that your bloody son started?” “What do you know of war?” “Nothing,” he says sharing a look with me. “But I know people and they hate each other as much as they hate us.”  
“Joffery is king,” Cersei states proudly. “You are here to advise him.” “Yes I am here to advise him. And if he does listen to my advice, then perhaps he will get his Uncle Jamie back.” I still can’t believe that he’s been captured. I miss him. Even though we don’t see each other much, I love my father dearly. I hope the Starks aren’t treating him too terribly. But war is cruel and he’s not a well-liked man. “How?” I knew that would get her attention, no doubt Tyrion did as well. “You love your children, it’s your one redeeming quality. That and your cheekbones.” I let out a small giggle at his jest.  
“The Stark’s love their children as well, especially Lady Catelyn.” I smile to myself knowing where this is going. Jon will be pleased to see the girls go home to Robb and their mother. Hopefully Tyrion can end the war with the North and we can focus on the one brewing in the south. “We have two of her children,” Tyrion says simply. Cersei awkwardly looks away. “One.” Tyrion and I share a concerned look and my heart fills with despair. “One?” I ask in a hoarse voice. “Arya,” Cersei looks down from our hard gazes. “That little animal," she spits out. "She disappeared.” “What in a puff of smoke?” Tyrion angrily demands.  
“Grandfather gave me charge of the Stark girls and you lost one? How?” She looks up at me shocked by my outburst. “I sent people to find her after Ned was arrested,” she says as if that helps anything. “But they didn’t find anything.” I continue burying my face in my hands. “Seven Hells.” Tyrion stares at me with a knowing look and I turn my eyes away from him. Jon is going to be so upset. Arya is only a little girl. “We had three Stark hostages to trade with. You chopped one’s head off and let another escape.” He sighs and takes a sip from his cup. “Father will be furious with you.” I can see the embarrassment on Cersei’s face. “It must be hard for you, being the disappointing child for once.”  
“I must speak with our innocent prisoner, Sansa Stark,” I say as I stand up. “I hope you haven’t abused her?” I ask giving a pointed look to my Aunt. “How dare you accuse me of such-” “I’m not accusing you. I’m accusing your son,” I nastily spit at her. She opens her mouth to speak but I don’t wish to listen to her silly excuses. If she doesn't know that Joffery is a monster by now, she never will. And judging from the one interaction I saw between them, Sansa has probably been abused by him this whole time. I stride out of the room, dreading the news I have to deliver to Jon once again.  
A servant escorts me to the chambers that they had set up for me. It's not terribly far from the small council room, and it only takes me a couple of minutes to walk there. Jon and Ghost are waiting for me inside. He smiles when I enter and I smile back, my heart soaring as I look at him. I love the feeling I get when we look at each other. “This chamber is bigger then the Lord’s chamber in Winterfell.” I look around at the ornately furnished room. “This is the chamber I always stay in. I usually leave some things here when I move between here and Casterly Rock,” I explain looking into the wardrobe and finding a few gowns I'd left here.  
“I’m going to have the chamber next door made up for you,” I tell him, taking a seat on the cushioned ottoman near the balcony. “I’m going to be up here?” He asks in surprise. “The Red Keep is one of the most dangerous places in the country. I’d rather you not be far from me,” I whisper softly. His expression softens and he sits down next to me. “You don’t want to be here, do you?” I meet his grey eyes timidly. “I want to help make the realm peaceful. But no, the only time I ever wanted to be here was to visit my father and he’s not even here this time. Otherwise I hate this place. The politics here are more dangerous then any battlefield."  
“I’m sorry,” Jon whispers sympathetically. “Arya is gone,” I tell him softly. “What?” “She escaped and no one can find her.” He rubs his brow tiredly. “Do you want me to send men out to look for her?” I hesitantly ask. We may be able to pick up some kind of trail and find her. I can't imagine she's gotten too far. He pauses and I can tell he’s unsure. “No," he says hesitantly. "If she escaped then she’ll make her way back to Robb. He’ll protect her, she's safer away from Joffery.” “Tyrion and I wish to propose a trade with your brother,” I explain. “Sansa for my father, but I don’t think he’ll accept.” Jon sighs, “No, I don’t think he will either.”  
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to protect Sansa. But you can’t be seen talking to her too much. It’ll be suspicious. It could be dangerous for both her and you. At least for now.” He leans his forehead against mine and my heart flutters in my chest, like it does every time we touch. “When can I talk to her?” “I’ll try and arrange something. I would like to have her chamber moved closer to me, so that I can watch over her.” His arms wrap around me in a tender embrace. “I can tell you now, I am sure I love you.” I let out a breath in surprise. “I love you too.” I tilt my chin up and our lips meet.  
Before things get too heated, I pull away from his arms. “I’ll go check on your sister. I’ll show you to your chamber.” “Ghost to me,” he pats his leg and Ghost leaps to his feet to follow us. The chamber next door is quite a bit smaller then mine but still comfortable. Jon sets down his pack and I realize that he doesn’t really have any belongings. “We’ll get you some fresh clothes tomorrow. We’ll go down to the street of silk and stop by the street of steel.” He bites his lip as he looks around. “I haven’t any gold to buy things.” I wave him away, “Don’t worry about it. A Lannister always pays her debts and I owe you my life, several times over. I'll take care of all that.” I press a small kiss to his lips and leave him staring out at the view from his balcony.  
I return to the grounds of the Red Keep. The gardens are rather beautiful right now, all the flowers are in full bloom. I’m assuming Sansa is still at the tourney, Joffrey wouldn't let her leave anyway. He probably wants to parade all his glory around and force her to watch. Gold cloaks are all over the place, more than usual. I suppose it’s unsurprising considering the war raging. The kingsguard move aside for me as I step up onto the covered landing. Joffery is leaning back in his cushioned chair looking amused at the battle. He'd never be able to actually fight in one. Tommen is falling asleep against his sister who is looking up at the sky. They are very clearly bored.  
“Is the tournament going well?” I ask Joffery while taking a seat next to Sansa. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “Yes, Clegane is wiping the floor with these imbeciles.” I watch as the Hound indeed tosses another man off a balcony. “He is a very talented fighter. A very good choice for your kingsguard,” I point out politely. Sansa is also watching but her eyes are glazed over. She’s clearly lost in thought. I gently touch her silk covered arm. “Lady Sansa?” She shakes her head and looks over to me, “yes Lady Lia?” “Would you join me for a walk? All this commotion must be getting to you,” I add pointedly. “Oh er,” she hesitantly looks at Joffery but he’s enveloped in another battle and doesn't even notice that we're talking to each other.  
“Of course,” she says while standing and adjusting her skirt. I take her arm and steer her quickly away from the tourney. Once we are far enough away I speak in hushed tones. You never know who is listening around here. Almost everyone has their own spies these days, something I should maybe invest in. “Are you alright? Has my cousin hurt you?” She seems frightened and nervously backs away from me. “Joffery is my beloved prince and I am only loyal to him.” I shake my head and hold my hands out to her in a calming motion. I want her to understand that I'm her friend.  
“My cousin is a monster, Sansa. As I’m sure you know now,” I whisper sadly thinking of how she lost her father. “My grandfather has put me in charge of the Stark girls,” I explain softly. “But your sister has escaped the city and your brother has asked me not to send anyone after her. I pray to the gods that she makes it safely back to your family.” Sansa’s eyes are wide in surprise. “You-,” she begins hesitantly. “You actually care?”  
“Of course I do. Your family was very kind to me when I visited Winterfell. You and your sister were far better then anyone here in the capital,” I add with a laugh. “Your brother has saved my life several times now. I owe him a lot.” “Jon?" Sansa questions skeptically. "He saved you?” I grimace thinking back to the attack at Castle Black. “I joined my uncle when he visited the Wall,” I cautiously look around but no one is in sight. “Your brother and I were already friends at that point. I spent much of my time in Winterfell with him,” I explain, hating the fact that I must be blushing.  
“I was attacked by two men of the Night’s Watch. Jon intervened and stopped them before they hurt me.” Sansa’s eyes widen in understanding. She must know what most men want with a pretty girl, her mother must have taught her that much. “Your uncle Benjen is the one who suggested he become my sword. I’ve been very fortunate to have him by my side as we travelled south,” I tell her. “I was able to stay in Winterfell and see your other brothers. Bran is doing well considering,” I trail off awkwardly remembering how saddened he was at the loss of the use of his legs and how angry Robb was.  
“When we reached the Riverlands we ran into your mother.” Sansa’s eyes light up; she must be very close with her mother, I guess as I gauge her reaction. “She captured my uncle and I and brought us to your aunt Lysa in the Vale. Your mother was harsh to my uncle but kind enough to me, I suppose. She told me she knew I had nothing to do with the things that have happened to your family. She argued with her sister and had me treated more gently,” I pull Sansa's arm in another direction when I see courtiers entering the gardens nearby. Our discussion must not be overheard by people. I steer her to a less travelled area closer to the sea.  
“I want to help you Sansa. Can you trust me to do that?” She pulls her hand away from my grip looking nervous. “My father was a traitor and the rest of my family is too.” I resist the urge to groan. “Just allow me to move you,” I offer up hesitantly. “You can have a chamber in my wing of the Keep. Would that be alright?” “Why are you doing this?” She asks harshly. “Even if your father had been a traitor,” I say awkwardly and I know she catches, ‘my had been.’ I simply cannot imagine Ned Stark betraying Robert's son. “You are innocent of his actions and you don’t deserve to be berated by my cousin and abused by my aunt.”  
She sucks in a sharp breath and I can see a little light enter her blue eyes. More then anything she needs a friend. “I would like to have my chamber by yours then,” she whispers with a small smile to me. “Your brother is very eager to speak to you. But you will both have to be careful, do you understand?” She nods quickly, “yes I understand. We don’t want anyone to think we’re conspiring to commit any kind treason against the crown.”  
I’m impressed by how quick she’s catching onto the game. Catelyn should have taught her daughter better. “Yes that’s right. I’ll arrange for us to have breakfast tomorrow. No one but us,” I reassure her. Her expression floods with relief. “Thank you Lady Lia.” “Please Sansa, call me Lia. Remember you can come to me with anything and I’ll do my best to help you. I can’t fix everything but I can try.” “The future Lady of Casterly Rock must have some pluses right?” She asks with a giggle. “Exactly,” I join her with a laugh.  
I return her to the tourney reluctantly. She takes her place by Joffery’s side without complaint. But she’s sitting rigidly in her chair. I hope she’ll learn to trust me, perhaps when Jon speaks to her, he can tell her that I mean well. This war is nonsense. Ned should have been traded with Robb or exiled to the Wall. Beheading him was the worst course of action taken. I bid my cousins farewell and return to my chamber. It’s exactly as I had left it the last time I was in the city.  
My sheets are embroidered silk with my sigil. I’m proud of who I am and my family, but lately I wish I would have known who my mother was. I've been thinking about her more often. The next time I see my father I've resolved to demand that he tell me about her, at least her name. I think I deserve that. I wonder if she would have given me up, had she lived? Maybe she would have loved me. I would be a simple bastard girl living a simple life. The idea is so foreign to me. Most highborn pity the commoners. I am one of the few that are jealous. Their lives aren’t dictated by alliances as ours are. All my life I’ve been groomed to follow in my grandfather’s footsteps.  
I absently run my fingers over the top of the bed. The future is grim. I knew war would break out in my lifetime, but this is extreme. Tyrion will need to try and get a handle on Joffery. That won’t be easy considering his temper and newfound power. I need to have Sansa moved closer and I know my aunt will object. She always questions my decisions. But grandfathers letter has given me all power over Sansa and I know I have Tyrion's support and the hand has the real power. I will make every decision about her till he returns and she cannot question Grandfather's authority, not with this.  
I send away the handmaidens when they come to prepare me for bed. I haven’t had the help of a handmaiden in months. I can manage to dress and undress on my own. They leave a plate of food on my table and I lock the door. I clear the plate quickly, not realizing that I hadn’t eaten since early this morning. After eating I slide under the covers and try and turn off my thoughts.  
The next morning my handmaidens come in with hot water to bathe in. Having a bath is refreshing after so long of cleaning in streams. They arrange my hair in a more simple style after it's clean. I detest some of the intricate styles Cersei has done. All that pulling hurts my head. My bangs are braided and pinned back behind my head with my curls left down. The dress I’ve chosen for the day is deep blue. It ties at the waist and has silver embroidery. I thank the girls who helped me and dismiss them, only asking them to bring enough food for three back to my chambers.  
They obey and return with several trays of food prepared by the kitchens. King's Landing has one thing that home does not and that is the best cooking in the world. After they leave I knock on Jon’s door. He answers immediately dressed in the same clothes as yesterday. “Good morning,” he says with a smile. I beam at him as Ghost licks my fingers in greeting. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?” His smile fades away. “Its very warm here. I couldn’t really sleep.” “Oh,” I reply with a frown. “We’ll find you something cooler to wear when we head into the city later,” I try to reassure him. “I’ve had breakfast brought to my chambers. Wait there while I get your sister.” “I should go with you,” he argues immediately, his brow furrowed.  
“I’ll be alright," I reassure him. "It won’t take very long,” I say looking around the corridor. He looks like he wants to argue but let's the matter drop. I watch as he and Ghost enter my chamber and close the door. The Red Keep is already awake and servants are scurrying all over to do their duties. Luckily I don’t come across anyone I know on my way to Sansa’s chamber. When I knock on her door she answers and I see she’s already dressed in a light pink gown.  
“Lady Lia,” she says in surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you.” I smile politely, knowing she is certainly watched. My aunt has many spies, including some of my own maids. “Lady Sansa I hope you slept well?” “I did thank you.” I hook my arm through hers when she enters the corridor. “I wanted to invite you to break your fast with me. Would you be interested in joining me?” Her whole face lights up in obvious joy. “I would be honored. Thank you Lady Lia.”  
I escort her back to my chamber, again luckily not coming across anyone familiar. Many people are probably still sleeping. Now that Joffery's nameday is over, there isn't much going on at court. I open my door and close it quickly as soon as we enter. Jon abruptly stands when he sees his sister. I watch as they stare at each other silently, before Sansa rushes forward into his arms. He catches her and I can tell that she’s crying by the sight of her shuddering shoulders. This must be such a relief for her, having a member of her family here with her.  
“What are you here for Jon?” She asks after catching her breath. I gesture for the three of us to sit and eat at the table. “I wasn’t lying when I told Joffery,” Jon explains as he looks at me. “I’ve sworn my sword to Lia. I’m here to protect her.” Sansa takes some bread and nervously looks at me, her eyes showing distrust. “What about Robb?” “Robb is fighting the Lannisters in the Riverlands with a large force of northmen and riverlords.” “Fighting to avenge father!” She returns her gaze to me. “Forgive me Lady Lia, but why should he protect you, when your cousin executed our father?” I'm surprised by her angry tone. I didn't think she'd outright accuse me.  
“I protect her because I think she’s worthy of my protection,” Jon snaps at her before I can speak. Sansa recoils; obviously shocked by his harshness. “Look Sansa,” he continues; this time more gently. “Lia had nothing to do with father’s death. I trust her and so should you.” Sansa opens her mouth in surprise. She hesitantly turns to me breathing deeply. “If my brother thinks your worthy of his trust then I do as well. I’m sorry of I offended you, Lady Lia.” “Please call my Lia. I want to be your friend, Lady Sansa.” She takes my outstretched hand in friendship. “Then you must call me Sansa as well.” I nod and we finish the rest of our food, which is delicious.  
Sansa tells us everything that has happened since she arrived. It seems Arya hasn’t been seen since Ned was arrested. She fled from the kingsguard when they came to take her. The rest of her news doesn’t surprise me. Renly fleeing and naming himself king is odd, but he always thought highly of himself. Stannis is on Dragonstone with a substantial fleet, he will cause problems in the future for us I know it. The Reach declaring for Renly strikes a blow to us. House Tyrell can rival House Lannister in many ways. They are the second richest house and can muster more men then we can. But they won’t be trained as well as ours. My grandfather is the best military commander in the Seven Kingdom’s by far. So far the Vale is staying out of the fray, but I know if they enter they will join with House Stark. Lysa is Robb's aunt but I don't think she'll send her men away from the Eyrie, she's too protective over her son. Dorne has called its banners but Prince Doran Martell hasn’t sent men to anyone. Either way, we’re all alone right now.  
I can tell Sansa is more relaxed now then she has been for a long time. She’s laughing and she and Jon are telling stories of their time in Winterfell. I know they weren’t the closest of the siblings but I can see that they love each other, they're obviously thankful to have each other right now. Watching them makes me wish I had had a sibling once more. But I have many other things to occupy my mind, mostly my fathers imprisonment.  
Sansa leaves to pray in the godswood after some time. Some servants come in and clear all the dishes. “Thank you Lia,” Jon says after they leave. “For today. I think Sansa feels much safer with you.” I take his hand in mine. “I think she feels safer with you in the capital, not me. You're her family.” He gently brushes my hair back. “Either way, you will be doing more protecting then I can. I fear if I tried to protect her, we’d both be dead.” My lips turn into a frown. “Politics are dangerous, Jon. You must be careful what you say and how you act. People will be watching you when they find out that you are her brother. Remember, Robb is rebelling and my cousin would kill you both without a second thought if he suspected you of treason. I wouldn't be able to stop him.”  
Jon’s lips are pulled into a grimace. “I’ll never betray you. I swore before the gods to protect you, you know that right?” I press my lips lightly against his making him smile once more. “I know this is hard. But I really appreciate you being here with me.” I pull away from him with a grin. “Now are you ready to go out into the city?” He hesitantly looks back to Ghost who is lounging on the tiled floor. “He’ll have to stay,” I tell him quietly. A direwolf won’t be welcome in most of the shops, even if he's incredibly well-behaved. “Are you sure?” Jon questions nervously. “I’d hate to leave him here.” “I’m sorry, he’ll draw too much attention. He’ll be perfectly safe in my chamber, alright? No one will come in here.” Jon reluctantly agrees and bids goodbye to his dearest friend, though Ghost seems quite comfortable snoozing in the sun.  
We slip out of the Red Keep after speaking with several of my guards. The entire Lannister guard grandfather sent with me I've commanded to patrol the area around my chamber. I’ve decided to bring only two with me into the city for extra protection. Grandfather would be quite upset if he found out I snuck out of the Red Keep again. My aunt was very angry to not have these men under her command. She tried to use them to her advantage when they easily informed her that they would only take orders from me. I smile to myself; it’s good to be in charge. I suppose I'll have to get used to it.  
The two guards walk several feet behind Jon and I as we make our way into the city. So far it seems normal despite the uproar in the Riverlands with the war. I see prostitutes hanging outside their brothels, bakers offering their goods, and I can hear septa’s preaching about the seven in the streets. As we walk Jon's eyes are moving all over. I know that he's never been to a city and this is all new to him. White Harbor is the largest city in the north and he told me he's only been there once.  
I steer Jon to the street of silk. The tailors in King’s Landing can make anything. They are exceptionally talented. Jon doesn’t seem to know what to look for so I speak with the seamstresses and watch as he gets measured. “They never did any of this in the North?” I question with a raised eyebrow. Jon stands rigidly on a platform, looking quite uncomfortable. “It was different back home. Less,” he frowns and looks around the room. “Fussy.” I giggle and so do some of the other ladies who are working. “I can’t say I’m surprised. But some fine clothes will do you well here. Your old ones must be too warm for the capital right?” “Right,” Jon agrees immediately.  
The seamstresses make quick work with Jon and promise to have the new clothes sent to the Red Keep in the next few days. They give him some new tunics and trousers to make do while he waits. On our way to the street of steel, I help him pick out two new leather boots. “I find it strange for them not to have fur,” Jon comments as he flexes his feet. “You’d be real warm down here with fur,” I say thinking of the hot weather. Jon grimly looks around. “Winter is coming.” His words send shivers down my spine. Eventually the Stark words always come true and the way he says them is chilling.  
People greet us outside their shops, hoping to catch favor with me. As the future Lady of Casterly Rock, I will be one of the most powerful people in the country and the richest. I press some gold dragons into the hands of the poorest people around us. I have too much to even think about and any money I give away will mean everything to them. I buy some fresh baked bread for us to eat on our walk. It’s fresh from the oven and melts in my mouth. “This bread is amazing,” Jon cries when he’s finished. “They don’t have bread like that back home.” “No?” I question with a smile. “It’s hard for farmers in the north. It’s too cold for most crops to grow, even during the summer.”  
“And this year will be even harder with the war,” I mumble in response. We lapse into a silence as we think about the state of the world. The chaos between our families is drastic. Who ever would have though that we would find each other in a time like this? I’m nervous about the future and what it holds. I don’t think my grandfather will want to sue for peace with the Starks after Robb has made such a fool of him in battle. He’ll want to show the world what House Lannister is made of. Someday soon he’ll also want me to marry. The thought never bothered me too much before now. I never thought I’d fall in love with someone before I was married, let alone someone from the family of our enemy.  
I shake the thoughts out of my head. I don’t have time to deal with that now. My job is to help my uncle rule the city and keep Sansa Stark safe. I still feel guilty about Arya being out there alone somewhere, but Jon asked me not to send people after her and I will listen to him. Someday I hope I'll get word that she's alive and well with her mother and brother, safe and sound. I'd hate to hear something worse.  
Jon and I enter Tobho Mott’s shop on the street of steel. He's the greatest smith in the city, well known by nobles and common folk alike. “Good afternoon My Lady,” he greets us as soon as we enter the smithy. “And to you,” I reply graciously. “It’s a pleasure to have you in my shop. What can I do for you?” I gesture to Jon. “This is Jon Snow and he’s my sworn sword. I want you to make anything he asks for.” Jon furiously shakes his head, “this is too much you don’t have t-” I cut him off, “and I’ll pay double for you to make it quickly. All your other orders can wait,” I raise an eyebrow, “right?” He bows and stumbles over his words, “Oh-oh er yes of course my lady. Anything for you.”  
I look around at some of the weapons on the wall with interest. They really are quite beautiful. “Go ahead Jon," I motion with my hand. "Tell him what you want.” Jon seems nervous but his excitement takes over. I watch from a seat by the door as he and Tobho move around the room, gesturing to different things and speaking happily. As a bastard I’m assuming Jon wasn’t given everything he wanted. Sure he had clothes and a sword to train with, but he had no money of his own. He couldn’t go out and buy a new cloak if he wanted; he had to ask his father for permission. The thought is strange to me. But watching him here fills my heart with happiness.  
After several hours Jon is finally finished. “Thank you,” I say to the blacksmith and hand him some gold to begin working. Jon and I exit the shop and begin making our way back up to the Red Keep. Night has begun to fall and the streets are more subdued. Nighttime is the most dangerous time to be in the city. The smell of food is all over the streets as people begin to make supper. My stomach begins to growl as I think about the types of food that await us back in the castle. As soon as we enter the grounds of the Red Keep, I dismiss my guards. I give them each a few silver stags to spend the night out as thanks. I may be stuck in the castle, but they are free to return to the city.  
A handmaiden waits for us as soon as we enter my chamber. Ghost is on the floor watching her and I can tell she's uncomfortable. He greets Jon happily when we walk in the door. “Hey buddy,” Jon says stroking his muzzle. “I missed you.” “Can you bring us some supper?” I ask Minisa. She nods quickly and exits the room. “What did you think of the city?” “It was different then I thought it would be. People were nice.” I giggle and put away the rest of my gold. “I have a lot of money. People are almost always nice to my face.” Jon closes the distance between us. “And behind your back?” Our noses are bumping as I tilt my head up. “Call me terrible names and insult me.” “No one will insult you while I’m with you now,” Jon insists in a whisper.  
“Oh yeah?” “I’ll defend your honor, this I swear by your gods and mine.” To reach his lips I arch forward on my tiptoes. “Thank you Jon,” I murmur against his lips. When he pulls away I see his eyes are full of adoration. “I should be the one thanking you. Lia you didn’t have to do everything you did for me today.” “I want you to be happy here,” I reply. “Seeing my sister and knowing you’ll protect her makes me happier then anything. But everything you bought is beyond words. Thank you.” I see Ghost perk up and look to the door and I assume Minisa is back with our food. I pull away from his arms before she enters. “You are very welcome Jon. I'll be expecting you to look ever so dashing in your new things.”


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning Jon stays with Sansa since she has taken ill. I can’t blame her for not wishing to be at court. The way people whisper around her is cruel, as if she is to blame for her father and brothers actions. They're cowards for ridiculing a girl. But then again, most men are. I hold my head high as I make my way around the court. I’ve already spoken with several people, hoping to get the city more food from various holdfasts around the crownlands. I’ve ordered men to return to Casterly Rock and bring in some of our grain. Without it, the small folk will go hungry, and it seems I’m the only person here who cares. The city is in mourning due to the slaughter of Robert’s bastards. I can’t believe that Joffery ordered them al to be murdered, and by the city guard too! Most of them didn’t even know who they were, let alone the King’s bastard. It's despicable. I'm surprised we don't have a full scale rebellion in the city yet.  
I make my way to the tower of the hand to speak with Tyrion. He's probably the only person that cares enough to listen to me. I enter his chamber unannounced and find that while he is not here, two others wait inside the chamber. “Lord Varys,” I greet in surprise. He smiles softly, “Lady Lia, it is so wonderful to see you.” My eyes move to the woman beside him. I recognize her as the woman my uncle spent much of his time with on the road, the one with the accent. “Where is my uncle?” I ask after taking a seat at the table with them. “We are also waiting on him,” Varys answers swiftly. "if you wish to join us." “Typical,” I mutter in annoyance. For being such an important person, he doesn't keep to his schedule much. I spoke to Podrick earlier about seeing him now.  
“I don’t believe you’ve properly met Shae,” he says gesturing to the woman next to us. “No, I haven’t had the pleasure,” I answer while eying her. She's very beautiful with silky black hair. “Tyrion has told me much about you. He is quite fond of you,” she answers with her thick accent. Hearing it this close I recognize it as one from Lothal. “I love my uncle very much, I hope his words were kind?” “Oh yes, of course,” she replies with a small smile.  
I hear familiar whistling just as the door is pushed open. We all turn and see Tyrion staring at us with a shocked expression. Varys stands and bows his head. “My Lord,” he greets respectfully. “You’re late,” Shae demands. “Your friend was keeping me company and introduced me to your lovely niece,” she says while flashing a smile to me. “We were discussing your recent military victory against the Stark forces when your niece came in, I thought I’d introduce them.” Tyrion’s eyes flash to mine momentarily, but his expression is unreadable. He must be a little shocked. He does deserve it a little bit.  
“It was quite a battle,” he answers Varys stiffly. I can see the discomfort in his shoulders, he must have wished to hide this from everyone, hide her. He walks over to pour himself some wine. “I heard you received quite a terrible head injury,” Varys continues lightly. “The northerners are such fierce warriors.” His gaze moves back and settles on me. “As I’m sure you know, Lady Lia.” I meet his gaze head on, unfettered by his line of questioning. “Indeed they are. While my grandfather didn’t permit me to fight, my sworn sword, Jon saved me at Castle Black and on the road. He is quite talented.” If Varys is surprised by my answer he doesn’t show it. The Spider is always fishing for information. I know he'd love to blackmail me or at least have something ready in case I disagree with him.  
I sit by silently as they continue to dance around who Shae is, but it’s obvious we all know that she is his paid lover. I may be young but I'm neither naive nor stupid. They continue for a moment before Varys swears to keep Tyrion’s secret. I wonder what he wishes to gain from it, people in King's Landing always have ulterior motives. Varys reminds Tyrion of the council meeting before they whisper in hushed tones by the door. Tyrion’s expression is angry but Varys is calm as usual. I know Varys is one of the most dangerous men in this city, even if he doesn't look it. Secrets make more enemies then anything and that is his trade.  
He exits and Tyrion turns to me. “Lia I-,” he begins looking between Shae and I. “Uncle Tyrion, I’m not stupid. I know who she is and I honestly don’t care. I wouldn’t have told grandfather,” I say bitterly to him. “I know you wouldn’t and I don’t wish to put you in this position,” he replies after taking a sip of wine. I hold my hand out to Shae who accepts it in greeting. “My name is Lia and it’s nice to meet you.” “Shae,” she replies after smirking at Tyrion. I stand and straighten my dress. “Uncle, we have a meeting to attend. Aunt Cersei will be angry if we make her wait too long.” He groans and holds open the door for me. “Right you are, my dear. Let’s not keep her waiting any longer.”  
As soon as we arrive Cersei reads aloud a letter Robb Stark had sent us, via messenger. It seems his bannermen have declared him King in the North and he wishes to secede from the Seven Kingdoms. He may be better off on his own then with Joffery leading us into the dirt. As soon as she’s finished reading the letter, Cersei rips it up into pieces, lips twisting into disgust. “He is more spirited then his father,” she bites out. “By the gods, you’ve perfected the art of tearing up papers,” Tyrion jests from his place next to her. “We’ll give him his father’s bones back as a gesture of good faith.” I nod my agreement. We have no use for them here; Lord Stark deserves to rest in Winterfell where he belongs. Cersei asks our cousin Alton to deliver our reply, he accepts but I can see the fear in his eyes. Whether he is scared of the Stark’s or her I’m not sure of.  
When she asks about Jamie, the room is filled with discomfort. My eyes snap up to the boy, eager for any news of my father. “They have not broken his spirit, your grace.” I let out a breath in relief. I have to know that we will get my father back; I want to make peace happen for us. I want him to come home.  
“If that’s everything,” Cersei says wearily while starting to stand. Grand Maester Pycelle clears his throat and hands something to me. “One more thing, a raven from Castle Black arrived for Lady Lia.” My uncle and I share a look while I break the black crow seal to read the letter. "Why to Lia?" Cersei asks with narrowed eyes. My heart leaps into my throat as I move my eyes along the writing. “Trouble with the wildings?” Varys asks as if they are no threat at all. “That’s why they are called wildings,” Baelish sarcastically replies. “It seems they’ve stopped killing each other and started following a king beyond the Wall.”  
“Another king?” Cersei starts to laugh. “How many are we at now? I've lost count.” I've counted up to six at this point, I think to myself. I clear my throat and hand the letter to Tyrion. “Lord Commander Mormont has asked us to send him more men to man the Wall,” I say and I remember my promise to him. I will do everything I can to keep it. “We are fighting a war of our own,” Cersei says. “We simply have no men to spare for him.”  
Tyrion starts to read a line from the letter. “Cold winds are rising and the dead rise with them.” “The northerners are a superstitious people,” Pycelle coughs out. Everyone stands to leave while Tyrion continues. “The Commander says one of these dead men attacked him in his chambers. Mormont doesn’t lie.” “How do you kill a dead man?” Slynt asks sarcastically. “You burn them,” I answer before Tyrion has a chance to. Cersei starts to laugh, “One trip to the Wall and you both believe in grumpkins and snarks. It's silly.”  
She starts to leave and I stand, desperate to aid them. I gave Mormont my word that I would assist them in their fight. He didn't have to release Jon, but he did and I owe him gratitude. “Aunt Cersei, the Night’s Watch is the only thing that shields the realm from what lies beyond the Wall. Whether these words of dead men are true or not. None of us can deny that the wildings are a threat and if the dead are out there too,” I trail off not knowing how to continue. “Oh yes,” she drawls out. “I have every confidence that the Night’s Watch can protect us.” With that she and all the others leave, only Tyrion and I remain.  
“Do you believe his words?” I ask softly. Tyrion looks up from the letter. “I have no reason not to. Benjen Stark told me strange things were beginning to happen out there, things he couldn't understand. Out of everyone, he would know and now he's lost.” I rest my chin in the palm of my hand. “I want to help them. I made a promise and I intend to keep it.” Tyrion nods, “That is very honorable of you, Lia.” “I’m going to send every man in the dungeons to the Wall. I’ll try and have some Lannister steel sent with them.” I gather my skirts and hurry off to my chamber to write my letters.  
I visit Sansa and Jon before meeting my uncle for supper. “How are you feeling Sansa?” She is lying in bed with Jon seated in a red cushioned chair next to her. “Tired,” she softly replies. I press the back of my hand against her forehead to see if she has a fever, which I think she does. “Should I call for the Maester? Your fever hasn’t broken yet,” I tell her with a furrowed brow. “No,” she answers quickly. I shoot Jon a concerned look and he shrugs. “Drink lots of water then. Do you mind if I borrow Jon for a moment?” She nods her consent and Jon and I step into the next room.  
“Are you alright?” Jon asks as soon as we’re alone. “Yes, I’m fine. I received a letter from Castle Black today.” His grey eyes shoot up in surprise. “What did it say?” “Lord Commander Mormont has asked me for help.” Jon nods his eyes understanding, “the Watch always needs help.” “Your uncle has been lost beyond the Wall.” Jon’s expression falls and we lapse into silence. “Is he dead?” “They don’t know. But Mormont wrote that a dead man attacked him in his chambers.” “A dead man?” Jon asks in shock. “He called it a wight. Said you can only burn them.” “I don’t know what to think of that. Are you going to help?” “Yes,” I answer firmly. “I gave my word that I’d help I any way I can. There is not much I can do while we’re at war. I thought you’d want to know.” He brings his hand up to touch my cheek. “Thank you for telling me. Will you be alright if I stay here with Sansa the rest of the evening?” I nod while leaning into his hand. “Yes, I have supper plans with my uncle. You watch over your sister.”

 

“Lord Janos,” I greet coolly as soon as I sit down at the table in the Hand’s chambers. “Lady Lia, I didn’t expect you here.” I raise an eyebrow, “Do you not wish me here?” He scrambles an apology while Tyrion’s squire Podrick accidentally spills some wine. “Damn it boy!” “Leave us Podrick, we can pour our own wine tonight.” With a bow he hurries out of the chamber. I'm glad Podrick has a place in our household. He's very kind and wonderful to my uncle.  
They make small talk about the wine that is being served. It is very good but I grow bored rather quickly. I don’t know why Tyrion insisted I attend, I could be searching for ways to help the Night's Watch right now, speaking with nobles about potential assistance. So many of them are at court right now and throwing my weight around is a good way to get aid. They will want to curry favor with the future Wardeness of the West. “I heard there was a bit of trouble in Littlefinger’s brothel the other day,” Tyrion begins. “Nasty business but it had to be done my lord.” “Yes,” Tyrion drawls out. “The City Watch must keep the peace.” I begin to realize where this is going and I straighten to attention. “I didn’t realize that keeping the peace meant killing babies.” “Orders are orders,” Slynt says to defend himself. He is a squirrelly one.  
“Yes especially coming from the Queen.” “I didn’t say they came from the Queen.” “Yes, because who else would want to murder King Robert’s bastards. She’s always been a jealous woman.” I raise my eyebrows in surprise. I didn’t think Cersei cared about Robert at all. They were a marriage of alliance, not love. When Tyrion brings up the rumors of my father and Cersei I open my mouth to question but he cuts me off with a hard look. I wonder what rumors he could be speaking about?  
“Tell me, when you slaughtered Ned Stark’s men in the throne room, did you give the order?” “I did and I would again,” he answers confidently. I’m glad Jon isn’t in the room; because I have a feeling this man would be dead. “The man was a traitor who tried to buy my loyalty.” Tyrion cocks his head to the side pitifully. “Such a fool," Tyrion says and he clicks his tongue. "He had no clue that you had already been bought.” “Are you drunk? I’ll not have my honor questioned by an Imp!” Slynt demands raising his tone. “You dare raise your voice at my uncle again and I’ll make sure you don’t have a voice again,” I threaten lowly. Tyrion chuckles and smiles at me. “I daresay my niece could carve you up like the craven you are. But that won’t be necessary Lia.”  
“I’m not questioning your honor Lord Janos,” Tyrion says coolly. “I’m denying its existence.” When Slynt rises from his chair I do as well; my hand resting on the dagger at my hip. Perhaps I should have asked Jon to join me, I hope Tyrion has a plan or this might be quite a scrap. A dress isn't something to battle in. “You think I’ll sit here and take insults from you dwarf,” he snarls out. “Dwarf? You should have stopped at Imp,” Tyrion practically snarls. I can hear his voice rising in anger. He hates to be insulted in such a manner. Now if father or I make a joke, he laughs with us. Anyone else though, he can grow very unfriendly.  
“And yes you will take it from me or you’ll take it from my friend,” Slynt turns and I see Bronn standing in the room. He was so quiet I didn’t even hear him enter. “I intend to serve as Hand of the King till my father returns from the war and seeing as you betrayed the last hand. I wouldn’t feel safe with you here.” “My friends will not allow this! The Queen-,” “The Queen Regent," Tyrion corrects him. "And you’d be a fool if you actually think she’s your friend,” Tyrion cuts him off with a glower. “We’ll see what Joffery has to say about this then!” “No,” Tyrion says nodding his head to Bronn. Half a dozen gold cloaks enter the room, armed and armored. It is quite a dramatic move on Tyrion's part. I like it.  
“Now my niece has been kind enough to head Lord Commander Mormont’s plea for help. Her kindness has inspired me to help them as well. There is a ship in the harbor bound for Eastwatch, where you are being sent. I’m afraid the walk to Castle Black will be long and awfully cold.” I’m beaming from my place next to him. He may be a horrible man, but at least Mormont can put him to work. “I hope you enjoy your new home at the Wall. I found it quite beautiful in a horrible kind of way.” “We’ll escort you. These streets aren’t safe,” Bronn says from behind Slynt. He's smirking now with his hands still poised on his weapons. “These men are under my command!”  
“Oh?” I laugh after sharing a look with my uncle. “And what are you going to command them to do? Kill the Hand of the King and the heir to Casterly Rock?” He falters and Bronn laughs even harder. “Of course not,” he says awkwardly. “I demand you arrest this cutthroat!” “His name is Bronn,” Tyrion snaps at him. “And he is the new commander of the City Watch.” “Boys,” Bronn says while inclining his head. The gold cloaks seize him and drag him out of the room, still screaming about his powerful friends.  
Once he is gone Bronn sits across from me and Tyrion pours all of us wine. “To the new commander,” he says holding out his glass in the middle. Bronn and I each take our cups and clank them together in celebration. “Your niece is as fierce as they come. Would you have stabbed that fat weasel if he threatened your uncle again?” Bronn asks with twinkling eyes. “Yes,” I answer without hesitation. “Good girl,” he says while chuckling. "I wish more women were like you." "Don't get any ideas Bronn," Tyrion warns him. "Or you'll lose your head when my brother returns." I chuckle. My father wouldn't take well to men wishing to take advantage of me. Though I wonder if he'd cut off the head or something they'd miss more? “You should return to your chambers Lia. Go get some sleep,” Tyrion says nodding his head. I frown but do as he says, even though I wanted to ask about the rumors he spoke of. I suppose it will have to wait.

 

A few more days pass by in a blur. I’ve been busy with letters and requests from home. Everything is being sent to me since my grandfather is in the field. I don’t trust anyone to help me with this kind of work so I choose to do it myself. All I do is write letters and speak to people at court. Late one evening my Aunt has invited me to join her, my cousins, and Sansa for dinner. Candles light the room and a fine meal sits at the table. Jon has been frustrated that he can’t be by my side all the time. Usually he stays with Sansa when he’s not with me. I don’t know what he’ll do tonight since we are both here, probably off brooding. He is quite good at it.  
Sansa is quiet as she usually is around others. Over the past few weeks she has grown to trust me and is more talkative and happy. I find her absolutely darling. Tommen and Myrcella are also quiet and can feel the tension in the room. It is clear that my Aunt is the reason for the trouble. “When will Joffery and Sansa be married?” Myrcella asks, finally breaking the silence. Sansa’s blue eyes widen at me and I give her an encouraging smile. “Soon my darling, after the war,” Cersei answers after setting her wine down.  
“Mother says I’ll have a new gown for the ceremony and another for the feast,” she gushes excitedly. “But yours will be ivory since you’re the bride.” Sansa is silent and everyone turns to her. “The princess just spoke to you,” Cersei says turning her gaze on Sansa. I can see the fear returning in her eyes. “Pardon your grace," she finally says. "I’m sure your dress will be as beautiful as you are Myrcella. I’m counting the days till the fighting is done and I can finally be wed to the King in sight of the gods.” She has certainly improved her lying ability. She'll need it to survive here at court.  
“Is Joffery going to kill Sansa’s brother?” Tommen asks his mother, his voice small. “He might,” Cersei lightly answers. “Would you like that?” Sansa takes a big drink of her wine. I can’t blame her. I think we all need it to get through this dinner. “No,” Tommen answers softly. “I don’t think so.” Cersei leans toward her children. “Even if she does, Sansa will do her duty. Won’t you little dove?” Sansa meekly answers, “of course your grace.”  
“When will Lia get married? She’s older then both Joffery and Sansa.” Myrcella asks as she turns her attention to me. I nearly choke on my wine; making Tommen laugh. “She’ll be married when your grandfather makes a match for her,” Cersei answers for me. “Mother,” Myrcella hesitantly begins. “Yes my love?” “I have a question but-” she trails off as if she's unsure. Cersei's expression softens. “You can ask me anything Myrcella,” Cersei says kindly. “Everyone wants the end of the war right?” She asks while looking around the room. “Of course darling. War is a terrible thing.” “Why doesn’t Lia marry Robb Stark to end the war? My Septa told me marriage alliances have ended wars before, even before the Targaryens arrived in Westeros.”  
Sansa’s eyes brighten when they meet mine across the table, she's practically beaming. Cersei looks to me; gauging my reaction. I can see some sympathy in her eyes. All the blood must have drained from my face and I feel suddenly ill. “Your grandfather will find a suitable husband for her. Robb Stark is waging war against us and holds her father captive. Do you think that’s suitable for your cousin?” Myrcella shrinks back into her seat. “No mother I’m sorry.” “That’s alright darling. It was a good thought. You must be learning so much, my little love.” We lapse back into silence for the rest of supper.  
Sansa and I walk back to our chambers together. I know Myrcella means well, but I wish she would have kept her mouth shut. “Why don’t you want to marry my brother?” Sansa asks. “Sansa,” I begin with a sigh. “I’m serious,” she says cutting me off. “You could end the war. My brother is a good person. He would treat you well and you could live in Winterfell.” I don’t doubt her words. Robb hates my family but I think he would treat me well, he seems like a fine man. “Your brother is already promised to a girl of House Frey,” I tell her thinly. “You can break engagements,” she continues excitedly. “Sansa it’s not going to happen,” I state firmly; my voice hard. I'm ready for this conversation to end.  
I open the door to her chamber and she slams it behind us. “Why not? Do you not want this war to end?” “Of course I do,” I snap at her. “Then why won’t you consider it?” “I can’t make my own marriage arrangements,” I tell her and my voice rises to a shout. “Women in our world don’t get that luxury. Or have you forgotten that your father arranged for you to marry Joffery?” “He didn’t know about him!” “Of course he didn’t know! He doesn’t know how to play the games here at court! And neither do you!” The door opens and Jon stands in the corridor with narrowed eyes. “What’s going on? Why are you yelling?”  
Sansa speaks before I have a chance to. “Lia doesn’t want to end the war between our families.” Jon looks between us, obviously very confused. “Of course she does. Sansa, I told you she wants to help.” Sansa seems undeterred by his words. “She could end the war right now if she married Robb! I told her that he would be good and kind to her. Tell her!” Jon goes as rigid as a board. Our eyes meet and I can feel the discomfort coming off of him in waves. But it's not like he can tell his sister about whatever is between us. That is dangerous information. He could be killed for it, she could be killed for it.  
“Robb is promised to wed a Frey girl. He won’t break his word,” he says to Sansa. “He’s too much like father.” She hangs her head in defeat. “Sansa, I’m sorry I yelled at you,” I say softly. “But I was right before. You have to learn how to act around all these people. My aunt is very good at what she does. Always tell her what she wants to hear, understand?” She nods and I can see a few tears streaming down her cheeks. I feel horribly guilty, I know she wants to help, she wants to go home. But that is not the way to do it.

 

The next morning word of the battle at Oxcross reaches the castle. Robb Stark and his army decimated our forces there. My grandfather is humiliated once again. I hear that Joffery called Sansa to court and I race downstairs to put a stop to whatever he is doing. Whatever his intentions are, they're bad. I won't let Sansa get hurt. When I enter the throne room, Joffery is aiming a loaded crossbow at Sansa. She is on her knees in front of him and Lancel Lannister is addressing the court. This is worse then I imagined. “Killing you would send your brother a message,” Joffery contemplates as he holds his weapon. Sansa dissolves into another fit of hysteric tears. She must think she's going to die. I charge forward and place myself in front of her. “Joffery! That is enough!” His eyes narrow, “cousin. I’m going to ask you once to get out of my way.”  
“Or what?” I challenge him and the courtiers all gasp. “I’m the king!” He shouts out for all to hear. “I can do whatever I like.” He lowers his crossbow back down by his feet but his eyes are narrowed in hate. “My mother insists on keeping Sansa alive. You can stand.” I feel Sansa get up beside me and I can hear her shuddering breaths as she tries to collect herself. “But we’ll have to send your brother another message. Meryn!” I see Ser Meryn stride forward and I place myself protectively in front of Sansa. Joffery cannot beat his future wife in front of every member of the court.  
“Get out of the way girl,” he hisses at me. “Sansa is my charge here in King’s Landing. If you want to hurt her, you’ll have to hurt me too,” I bravely spit at him. Meryn looks back to Joffery for orders. “Get it over with,” Joffery orders and fear swoops in my stomach. I didn't think he would dare threaten me, let alone hurt me. Ser Meryn raises his hand to hit me and I force Sansa backwards onto the floor, she grunts when she lands, but I know she's out of range. I duck when he swings his closed fist. I move quicker then he ever could, even in a gown. My own fist smashes into his mouth and he stumbles backwards, luckily he chose not to wear a helmet today or I'd never have landed a hit. “You bitch!” He snarls at me. I can see blood dripping from his mouth and I hear Sansa sobbing even harder from her place on the floor. I must have pushed her too hard, I was only trying to move her out of harms way. But she knows that.  
“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” Tyrion’s voice echoes throughout the room just as Meryn draws his sword, aiming it at me. The courtiers all move out of his and Bronn’s way; and I can see Jon behind them, his eyes wide with anger. “What kind of knight attacks two young girls?” Tyrion snarls at Meryn. “The kind who serves his king Imp,” Meryn spits back at him. “Careful now,” Bronn drawls out dangerously. “Wouldn’t want to get blood on your pretty white cloak now would we?”  
Tyrion strides up the stairs to Joffery. I can hear them arguing as I kneel down next to Sansa. “Are you alright?” Jon hurries over to us and helps his sister up. When Sansa realizes that it’s him she collapses into his arms, crying hysterically. “I was punishing her!” “For what crimes? She wasn’t fighting beside her brother you halfwit!” “You can’t call me that! The king can do as he likes!” “And you had them try to attack your cousin?” “She was defending that traitor!” “She was trying to stop you from doing something incredibly stupid and you told your men to attack her. I’d say that was stupid in itself.” Tyrion is jabbing his finger at Joffery. "Do you want to be considered a kin-killer? Everyone in Westeros would unite against, more then they already have," Tyrion spits. Joffery is practically shaking with anger at this point. His hands are gripping the Iron Throne and his face is red. “The mad king used to do as he liked, did your uncle Jamie tell you what happened to him?” Ser Meryn’s hand moves to his sword once more. “You dare threaten the king in front of the kingsguard?”  
“I am simply educating my nephew," Tyrion snarls over his shoulder. "Bronn kill Ser Meryn if he speaks again,” he states simply. Bronn steps up and moves between Meryn and us. “Now that was a threat,” Tyrion points out. Meryn snaps his mouth closed but his eyes are angry. Tyrion carefully approaches us and gestures for us to leave. Jon moves one of his arms to the small of Sansa's back and we all walk away.  
“I apologize for my nephews behavior, Lady Sansa. Please tell me the truth, do you want to break off the betrothal?” Jon looks over at me in alarm and I shake my head. This is Sansa’s business right now, not ours. Tyrion is a good man and will help if she asks. But she needs to stay loyal while working around it. That's her best chance. “I am only loyal to King Joffery,” Sansa answers. “He is my one true love.” Tyrion seems surprised by her answer and lets Jon and her handmaidens escort her back to her chamber to rest. She's had a trying morning and needs to recover. She will be alright with Jon and Ghost.  
“You should’ve killed Ser Meryn,” I say nastily to Bronn. “Aye, I probably should have,” Bronn concedes in agreement. "But you were doing considerably well for yourself." “Killing him wouldn’t help anything.” “He tried to strike me uncle. If I wouldn’t have been trained he would’ve.” Tyrion’s expression is clouded and he doesn’t respond. But my heart hasn't stopped racing, I'm so anxious. I've never felt so threatened, so cornered.  
I hurry back up to my chambers. I need to be away from anyone eyes before I lose control. Jon and Sansa are already waiting for me when I open the door. “Lia thank you,” Sansa says while wrapping her arms around me when I enter. “You didn’t have to do that,” she whispers. “No one deserves to be beaten. You are my charge and I will protect you.” Jon’s face is hard. “I should have been there. Ser Meryn would never have dared to attack you.” “And you would be dead then,” I whisper to him over Sansa's shoulder.  
His eyes meet mine and they are filled with the things he can’t say, at least not in front of Sansa. He must feel that he failed in his duty, but even he cannot stand against the Kingsguard. “Sansa,” I exclaim after I tear my eyes away from Jon. “My cousin is rotten to the core and I’ll do what I can to get you out of the engagement but I don’t know if I can break it.” She nods sadly, seemingly understanding that she's stuck as of right now. She wearily puts a hand to her head. “Thank you, Lia. I think I’ll rest now.”  
She exits my chamber and closes the door. As soon as I hear her own door close down the hall, I rush forward into Jon’s embrace. His arms wrap around my waist and mine are around his neck. “I was scared,” I breathe out. “I think Joffery would have let him hurt me.” “If you wouldn’t have been there they would have beaten my sister. You are the bravest person I know,” he murmurs against my hair. I feel safe with him, alone in my chamber. Nobody can hurt me here.  
I tilt my chin up and our faces our only inches apart. “I wish I could help more. I don’t know what to do.” He kisses me lightly. “You need to relax a bit. Get some rest,” he says softly. I lean back up and kiss him more firmly. “I want to spend some time with you, not sleep.” He pulls away from my arms, an odd expression on his face. “You should get some sleep Lia. You’ll have a busy day tomorrow.” I sullenly watch as he walks away and closes the door behind him. 

 

I call my handmaidens to ready a bath and bring me some supper. After a long day like this, perhaps Jon is right. Some sleep and food is exactly what I need. As they fill the tub with hot water, I eat my beef tenderloin. It’s seasoned to perfection and fills me up quickly. I'm ready to return to Casterly Rock. That is where I belong. Not in this horrible city. Once the tub is filled they clear the plates and leave me to my bath. I don't need assistance, I really just want to be alone now. I don't trust my servants here anyways, not like at home. I undress and toss my clothes aside. The water is warm and eases the tension in my body. I try to listen to Jon’s advice and relax.  
I call for the handmaidens to take the tub away and I dress in my nightclothes. I thought about reading but I think I'll just try and get the extra sleep. I move around the room to blow out the candles. I turn around when I hear the door open, perhaps one of my maids forgot something. I drop the candleholder in my hand in shock, it thuds loudly on the ground and rolls across the floor. A strange man is standing in the doorway. He’s got a scruffy dark colored beard with dark eyes. He’s dressed in mismatched armor, some plate and some leather. “Who are you?” I demand while backing up. He takes a threatening step forward. “That don’t matter,” he says while drawing a dagger from his belt.  
“GUARDS!” I scream immediately. “The guards outside are already dead.” Fear shoots through me and I back up into a table. I don't want to die. “Don’t worry,” he says softly. “I’ll make it quick.” I reach my hand behind my back and wrap my fingers around the first solid thing I find. When he draws closer, I swing it at him as hard as I can. He stumbles when it shatters against his left shoulder. “You’ll regret that bitch,” he snarls. I move out of the way when he swings the dagger at me. He grabs me as I move and drags me by my hair.  
I cry out and he brings the blade to my throat in an attempt to silence me. I scramble back to my feet, feeling the cold steel against my neck. I use all my strength to pry the knife away from me. I can feel it carving into my hand and my blood drips to the floor. But all I can think is that I need to get the weapon away from my neck. I knock the blade out of his hands and it falls across the room, clattering on the stones. Before I can move away, he picks up the candleholder I’d dropped earlier and hits me in the head as I turn. I drop to the ground and pain explodes from the back of my head.  
I struggle to get back to my feet and he reaches for the fallen knife. I see my own weapons belt hanging over a chair that’s only a few feet away. My only chance is to reach it. But my vision is spinning. I start to crawl over to it and my fingers wrap around my dagger. I swing it down into the fleshiest part of his leg before he gets into position. He howls loudly in pain and it echoes around the room. Hot blood spills out of the wound, making the floor even more wet and sticky. We both struggle to our feet but we have a hard time due to our individual injuries. I’m leaving bloody handprints each place I set them down. My vision is blurred, presumably from the wound on my head.  
I hear the door swing open once more and when I blink a few times, I see a disheveled Jon holding onto his sword. He hurries forward and kicks the blade from the attackers hand as he reaches out towards my arm. I hear it clang across the tiled floor again and land somewhere across the room. Jon stabs his sword down into the mans throat. I collapse onto the ground as I listen to him gurgle a few times before choking on his own blood. Once he has stopped moving; Jon kneels at my side as I struggle to stand. “Lia,” he helps me into a sitting position. “Go get the guards,” I gasp out. “And my aunt and uncle.” I blink away my tears as I try to assess my injuries. He seems reluctant to leave but Ghost comes into the room and Jon seems confident that he’ll be able to protect me.  
Ghost licks my cheek as I lean against a wooden cabinet. I tentatively touch the back of my head and find it to be sticky with blood. It’s sore and tender but I don’t think it’s deadly. I believe a Maester will be able to help. At least I'm awake and moving. From my studies I know that is a good sign. Some guard’s rush into the room, I recognize them as my guards. Jon then immediately returns to my side. I see that he's panting, he must have run so fast to get help. Tyrion and Cersei come into the room next, only a few minutes later, both dressed in their nightclothes.  
“By the gods,” Cersei gasps at the amount of blood on the floor. Tyrion looks at one of the guards. “Go get a Maester,” he snaps. He dashes out of the room and Tyrion checks the wound on my head. When his fingers probe the wound I bite my lip to stop myself from crying out. The pain is agonizing, the worst I've ever felt. “Lia, I will find out who this man was.” I nod and I can feel tears slipping down my cheeks. “Cersei,” Tyrion begins softly. “We need Varys here for his expertise and Joffery should be informed.” She nods and sweeps from the room, her skirts billowing behind her. “Jon did you kill him?” Tyrion asks looking back at the corpse. Some of the guards are searching him. “Aye,” Jon replies. “I wish you wouldn’t have,” Tyrion says bitterly. “I want to know who sent him, as will my father. Whoever would send an assassin after Lia is a grave enemy.”  
Grand Maester Pycelle comes in with Bronn. He glares at Tyrion as he moves out of the way. I know they dislike each other. Jon remains at my side as my injuries are looked over and cleaned. My hands are stitched closed and my head is wrapped with clean white cloth. “Here Lady Lia,” Pycelle puts a vial to my lips. “Drink this it’ll help with the pain.” I drink the small dose of it and recognize it as milk of the poppy. “She’ll need to be moved somewhere more comfortable, my lord.” Tyrion looks disdainfully at the Maester and reluctantly nods. Jon’s arms gently wrap around me and I’m moved to my uncle’s chamber. I fall asleep as soon as Jon sets me on the bed.  
Once my head has healed somewhat, I’m allowed visitors. Though I'm mostly unable to leave the bed. Jon has barely left my side since the attack, he has bags under his eyes but won't listen when I tell him to sleep. Tyrion and Varys are the first people to formally visit me, though I've seen my uncle everyday. “Lady Lia, it is wonderful to see you doing well,” Varys greets. “Thank you Lord Varys.” Tyrion waits impatiently for the formalities to be over. “What have you discovered Varys?” “Well the cutthroat is well known throughout Flea Bottom and the other burrows. But nobody knows who hired him. My little birds are on the lookout though.” I sag in disappointment. If he's a hired killer, then the real enemy is the one who paid him. With him still out there, I'm still in danger.  
The door opens and Joffery and Cersei are standing there with Tommen and Myrcella. Joffery is wearing his crown, despite being in private. “Oh Lia,” Myrcella cries out and she leaps forward onto the bed to hug me. Varys, Jon, and Tyrion step out of the way and move into the sitting room so they can continue to talk. “I’m alright Myrcella,” I say trying to reassure her. Tommen sits on the foot of the bed. “I was scared when I heard what happened to you.” I take his hand in mine, seeking to reassure him. “You don’t have to be scared Tommen. The guards will protect you, I promise.” Cersei’s eyes soften as we speak.  
Joffery is standing at the foot of the bed with his crown crooked on his head. “I’m having the City Watch look into who attacked you.” “Thank you Joffery,” I reply respectfully. “Aunt Cersei?” She looks up from her hands. “Has there been any word of my father?” I ask desperately. I want nothing more then for him to be here with me. I need him here. It may make me feel like a child, but thats simply how it is. Her face falls into sadness. “Only that he’s still a prisoner. He’d be here if he could,” she adds as she takes note of my own expression. “I know,” I whisper in response, feeling torn up just thinking about it.  
Once everyone clears out, Jon brings Sansa in. “Lia, I’m so glad you’re feeling better. Jon told me someone tried to hurt you.” “Your brother saved me yet again,” I reply making brief eye contact with him. “He seems to be good at that,” she comments with a smile. “Yes he is. I picked the right man for the job.” Sansa laughs and even Jon cracks a rare smile. Sansa stays for some time, whispering about her brother’s most recent victory. I can’t blame her for being excited and she can’t blame me for it being bittersweet. Those men who died are my men too and her brother is holding my father hostage and more then anything I want him to be returned to me.  
Some servants bring in food and Jon takes it from them. After they’re dismissed he sets the tray on the bed. “Are you hungry?” I shrug, “maybe a little.” I push the food around my plate, only eating a little bit. I'm so worried that I'll be attacked again. I don't understand why I was targeted. Could I really have true enemies. I'm barely older than a child and already I've had to deal with so much, it's not fair. “You should eat more,” Jon cuts in gently. “It’ll help you heal.” “Who do you think wanted to hurt me so bad?” I ask quietly. Jon falls silent. “I don’t think I’ve done anything to warrant such a death, have I?” “No,” Jon interjects quickly. “Your family has many enemies. They might have been trying to weaken your family.” “But I haven’t done anything,” I say in confusion. “If they were going to attack one of us, why me?”  
“I don’t know Lia. People don’t always need reasons for violence.” I sigh and set my plate aside. “I suppose you’re right. I wish I could go home. I miss Casterly Rock.” He brushes back some of my messy hair. “Someday we will. But right now you’re needed here.” “If I get the chance to go home, we can take Sansa with us. Perhaps being away from here will show her that she’s not all alone.” “Robb is in the Westerlands. Your grandfather wouldn’t allow you to go home anyway.” "I miss my father," I choke out in a sob, voicing my constant thought to him. Jon sympathetically rubs my hand. "I want him to be here with me." "I know," he soothingly replies. "I'm sure he'd want to be here with you too, but he'd want you to be strong right?" I nod and swallow away my tears, feeling like a child again.  
“If Robb wins the war, will he kill my whole family?” Jon hesitates and I can see that he’s torn. “I think he’d spare Tommen and Myrcella. They are only children.” I nod feeling relief for my cousins. “And I would ask that he spare you. I told him how I felt about you, he’d understand.” I think of the people he hasn’t named. “If we win the war,” I say in a whisper. “I’ll do everything I can to have your family spared. But Joffery isn’t a merciful person.” Jon’s jaw clenches tightly. “I know. I trust you. You’ve kept my sister safe this long and I don't think many people could manage that.”  
“Thank you for saving me again.” “It’s my job remember?” He says lightly. “I love you, Jon.” Our fingers lace together on top of the bed. He leans forward and presses his lips gently against mine. “I love you too.”


	6. Chapter 6

News of Renly Baratheon’s untimely death reaches the capital. I find the circumstances around it strange. I wonder what truly happened out there in the Stormlands. At first people were excited about it, especially Joffery. It is one less king for us to worry about, I suppose. With so many out there, one down is great. But Tyrion told me that almost all Renly’s bannermen have turned to Stannis now. With the added men, Stannis can outmatch us on sea and land. We have no hope of beating him if he attacks the city. We simply can’t handle a siege of that caliber, we don’t have the men or supplies to fight back. It will be disastrous if it comes to that. We simply cannot handle a war on two fronts.  
I’ve been unable to leave my bed for several days due to the extent of my injuries. Grand Maester Pycelle didn’t want to cause more damage, particularly to my head wound. So I’ve been forced to sit and write my letters in bed, which is quite complicated. I'm annoyed and beginning to feel trapped in the chamber. I understand that I need to stay, but I'm not happy about it.  
Robb Stark is still beating my grandfather at every turn. He’s proved himself to be a capable military commander. I’d hoped grandfather would negotiate a truce with Robb, so he could march our army here to defend the city from another attack, but I’m beginning to wonder if he’ll stay out there in the field due to his pride. He was formally renowned for his military prowess, but now people are laughing at his mistakes. We haven’t received a raven from him in weeks, even when I wrote to him about being attacked. I thought he would rush home after that, but I guess it's not important enough to warrant his personal attention. I bitterly toss another letter into the fire.  
Sansa has spent much of her time with me. I’ve appreciated her company but she’ll have to face the rest of the court sometime. She’s still upset about what happened last time, not that I can blame her. We'll have to tread more carefully around Joffery from now on. Jon is also constantly by my side. If he retires to his chambers then Ghost stays in mine with me. The gold cloaks have found no evidence of who the man who attacked me was or who he was working for. I have hope that Varys will be able to discover what happened; only he can hear the softest whispers in Westeros. But whoever sent him may try again and Ghost is enough to deter most killers.  
I miss my father more everyday. I wish he were here to help me get through this. I wonder what he would think of someone attacking me? I’m sure he’d tear the city apart trying to find who did it, he’s always been protective of me. The city is starting to go hungry due to the conflicts. Tyrion has told me that prices for almost everything have gone up due to the war. With the Westerlands under attack, there is nothing I can do for the small folk here. I can't risk losing food on the road to bandits or northern forces so I order shipments to stop. Tyrion has been preparing the city as well as he can for the siege, but only so much can be done. He asked me what I knew about wildfire, which concerned me slightly. Wildfire is dangerously unstable, but if he thinks it could help, then I trust him.  
When I’ve finally been cleared to leave my bedchamber, I do so eagerly. I quickly jump back into my training. With my injuries, I’ve lost some of my strength and I need to build it back up. I’ve already begun working with my blade and my bow. The master at arms is eager enough to work with me as much as I need, it's not like Cersei would ever let Tommen or Joffery properly learn to fight.Though they sorely need training. I also receive a warm welcome back by the attendees of the court. Jon follows me around quietly as people wish me the best health. I have to resist rolling my eyes at their fake pleasantries. I don’t trust anyone here in the capital, other then my uncle and perhaps Myrcella, but she's only a girl. “Jon,” I murmur after the latest well-wisher walks away from us. “Yes, my lady?” I smile softly at him, he gets a kick out of calling me by my titles and proper names when in public. “I do believe I’ve listened to enough dull people. Shall we leave?” “I thought you’d never ask,” he replies with a laugh.  
We leave the court quickly, eager for an escape. “Where is your sister?” I ask in curiosity. “She’s with her new handmaiden," Jon answers. "Shae. She seems to like her.” I look away from him; thinking of the fact that Shae is my uncle’s whore. I understand that Sansa needed a friend and Shae needs protecting, but I dislike the idea of it. Sansa is a highborn lady, one in a very scary situation. I hope Shae will treat her well and protect her when I cannot.  
“Do you think Stannis will attack the city?” Jon asks when we reach my chamber. “Yes,” I reply immediately. His brow furrows as I sink into a chair. “The city can’t handle a large scale attack.” “I know,” I respond shortly. “How do you feel? Still sore?” I shake my head, “No, I feel fine.” He sits next to me and places a hand on my shoulder. “Then what is troubling you?” “I dislike sitting here playing the stupid game. We should be out there helping people.” “Game?” Jon's expression is filled with confusion.  
I chuckle and I lace my fingers through his. “The game of thrones," I answer simply. "I take it you didn’t learn how to play in the north?” “No. We learned proper things,” Jon argues. “This is proper. This is how we live here in the south.” Jon rolls his dark eyes. “I don’t understand how someone as wonderful as you was raised here.” I turn to him in surprise. “That is kind of you to say, but I’m not the only good person born south of the neck, Jon Snow.” He pulls his hand from my grasp and brings it up to my cheek. “You’re the only good person that matters to me.” I lean into his touch; letting myself relax slightly. “You’re too good to me.” Jon chuckles and presses his lips to my forehead.  
“We have a busy day tomorrow. Your cousin is leaving for Dorne.” My smile falls off my face; quickly turning to a grimace. “She doesn’t want to go. She came to me yesterday and asked me to stop it, but there’s nothing I can do. My uncle says Dorne will be the safest place for her.” “With Stannis coming, it will be,” Jon, says, trying to reassure me. “I’ll miss her. Myrcella is so sweet. She's the closest thing I have to a sister.” Jon wraps an arm around me; pulling me into his chest to comfort me. I feel like I'm losing my family, one by one. Not in death but because all of them are away from me.  
“I’ve been helping my uncle with siege preparations,” I tell him softly. “He has a few ideas to help us.” “Anything worth mentioning?” I open my mouth to respond but think better of it, his plans are not mine to share. “I hope so. We don’t have enough men to even properly hold the gates.” “You don’t think your grandfather will return?” I shrug my shoulders and try to ignore the twinge of disappointment. “I haven’t heard from him in so long now. I don't think he'll come back here in time for the attack.” We fall into silence as our minds wander.  
“Jon?” I ask, breaking the quiet. “Hmmm?” “If Stannis takes the city,” I begin softly. “I release you from your vow.” I fell him go rigid under my arms. “What? Why?” His voice is higher then normal with surprise. “I’m a Lannister,” I begin to explain awkwardly. “Stannis will kill me and my family without question. But you can protect your sister. He won’t harm either of you since you are Eddard Stark's children. I believe he is honorable enough for that.” “I can’t do that,” Jon stubbornly responds. I pull away from his arms to meet his steely gaze. “You’ll do as I command you to,” I reply with a hard voice. The one I normally only use when I’m acting as the Lady of Casterly Rock. "Lia..."  
“Stannis hates my family. He won’t let anyone with the name Lannister live for long. But your sister is a hostage here and she will need you.” He lets out a long breath and brings his gaze to meet mine. “I won’t let you die.” I smile and push some of his black curls away from his face. “Sometimes you have to put duty first.” “You are my duty,” he stubbornly cuts me off. “As is your sister,” I point out. “If it comes to having to choose between us, I’m making your choice for you. Sansa.” He is silent for so long that I begin to wonder if he’ll ever speak again. “If that is your wish,” he finally says but his voice breaks as he speaks. “Then I will do as you say.” “Thank you Jon,” I reply feeling relieved. “It is what I want you to do.” 

 

The next morning I begin to dress for the journey down to the bay. Myrcella is leaving today and much of the court will be joining us as we bid her farewell. I choose to wear an emerald green gown in a simple style. It has some embroidery on the bell style sleeves. I wrap a golden belt I got from Lannisport around my waist. I slip into my leather boots and conceal one of my daggers in the top of the boot, just in case. Ever since my attack I've been a little nervous. I know whoever sent the first man will likely try again. I don't want to be caught by surprise. I grab the bracelet I had made for Myrcella off of my desk. Hopefully when she wears it, she’ll think about me. I braid a few strands of my hair before exiting my chamber to find Sansa.  
Jon waits for me outside. He’s dressed in some of the new armor that I had commissioned and it looks really great on him. It seems Tobho Mott did a wonderful job on the pieces I commissioned. I'm glad Jon can finally begin to fit in down here. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs when he catches sight of me. I feel my cheeks heat up and I smile. “Thank you Jon. Shall we find your sister?” He nods and takes my arm in his. Sansa is wearing a light pink gown with a similar golden belt to mine. Her hair is done up in a style just like my aunt would wear. “You look wonderful Sansa,” I praise as she walks up to us. “Thank you Lia. That dress looks extraordinary on you.”  
The walk down to the bay is quiet. I walk with my family several feet in front of Jon and Sansa. “Myrcella,” I whisper softly to get her attention. “Yes Lia?” Her expression is crushed; I can’t imagine how she must feel. She’s betrothed before I am, even though she’s so much younger. But I suppose she is a princess and I am merely a lady. Its different for her. “I had this made for you.” She takes the bracelet from my hands and holds it up in the sunlight to look at. “Oh,” she begins softly. “Thank you Lia. It’s beautiful.” I realize we’ve made it to the beach and everyone takes his or her place. Jon is up above us with the other guards. “You’re welcome. I’ll write to you I promise.” More tears start to fall down her cheeks and she hugs me tightly. “Please do." "You can tell me all about Dorne, since I've never been there." "Will you visit me, after the war?" "Of course I will," I answer instantly. "I’ll miss you.” “I’ll miss you too,” I reply quietly, doing my best to comfort her.  
I watch as she walks over to say farewell to my aunt and her brothers. She’s sobbing at this point; unable to hide her feelings. She clings to her mother and I can see that Cersei is sad as well. How can she not be? Sending her only daughter away must be horrible. I pray that she’ll remain safe in Dorne. Hopefully the Martells will take good care of her. Her Septa helps her board the rowboat and sit down properly. The men in her travel party begin to push the boat out to sea. A ship waits in the harbor to take her south. The High Septon is praying above us for a safe journey. Tommen is crying next to me; clinging to my hand. Myrcella was his best friend and I know out of all of us here, he’ll miss her the most.  
I hear Joffery scoff next to us. “You sound like a mewling cat. Princes don’t cry.” Tommen’s hand tightens on my own and I resist the urge to scowl at Joffery. He's a child, I wish I could tell him to leave him alone. “My little brother Rickon cried when I left Winterfell,” Sansa offers up softly. “So?” “It seems a normal thing.” I try and send Sansa a look but it’s too late. “Is your little brother a prince?” Joffery demands. “No,” Sansa answers taken back. “Then its not the same,” Joffery snaps back at her.  
He walks away with his kingsguard trailing behind him. “Come dog,” he says to Clegane. I kneel down in front of Tommen and wipe the rest of his tears with my hands. Cersei is standing a few feet away, watching us intently. “Tommen I know you’ll miss Myrcella. I’m going to miss her too, but you have to be a strong boy. Can you do that for me?” He hiccups a few times and nods. “Yes Lia. I can do that.” I press a kiss to his cheek and he smiles. “That’s wonderful! Perhaps we can go riding in a few days. Would you like that?”  
His face lights up with excitement and he looks over to his mother. “Mother is that alright?” She looks between us coolly. “Of course my son. That is very kind of your cousin. What do you say?” “Thank you,” Tommen says excitedly and he gives me a hug. I watch him hurry back over to his Septa much happier then he was before. I send a smile to my aunt before following the crowd of people as we begin to make our way back to the Red Keep. 

 

People are gathered to watch as we walk by. Guards are stationed around to keep the peace in case needed. The crowd is shouting kind words at Joffery, but he isn’t saying anything back to them. Robert used to wave and show kindness, it seems his son is nothing like him. That makes me sad. Robert wasn't a very good king, but he was well-liked. Their kind words quickly fade away and soon insults are being shouted. I feel Tyrion begin to tense next to me. “PLEASE YOUR GRACE WE ARE HUNGRY!” Tyrion turns behind us to Tommen’s retinue. “Get the prince back to the keep now!” I can hear the panic in his voice. The Lannister guards quickly sweep Tommen away in another direction with a few servants. “Uncle,” I murmur with my eyes on the restless crowd. “What’s happening?” “Nothing good,” he responds with narrowed eyes.  
Suddenly Joffery cries out and his kingsguard jump into a protective formation around him. “PROTECT THE KING!” Swords are drawn and I feel Jon rush up beside me. “I WANT THE MAN WHO DID THAT!” Joffery screams at his men. I can see that there is something brown smeared on his face. “FIND WHO DID IT AND BRING HIM TO ME!” Jon draws his own sword and uses his other arm to force me behind him as the crowd converges, shouting in anger. The crowd begins to boil over as Joffery screeches, “KILL THEM! KILL THEM ALL!”  
The crowd erupts and I see gold cloaks being knocked around as if they were dolls. Tyrion is crouched next to us, looking around fearfully. He looks up at the Lannister guards surrounding Cersei. “Move! Move!” They pull my aunt forward thorough the chaos. I look around in fear and see Sansa’s red hair behind us. “Jon!” I cry out. He turns to me in alarm; his eyes raking over me in search of an injury. “Your sister!” His gaze whips over to where her maids are trying to push her through. He hesitates for a moment before forcing his way over to her. I draw the dagger from my belt; suddenly very thankful that I thought to bring it. Clegane has picked up Joffery and is leading the way to the Red Keep. I force my way over to Tyrion and find him hiding behind Bronn.  
A terrible agonizing scream causes me to stop. I look over my shoulder and find the High Septon is being ripped apart by the rioters. One of them holds up his severed leg in joy. A man grabs me from behind and I bring my knife around as quickly as I can. He cries out in pain and I try to gather my scattered thoughts. If I hesitate I die, I remind myself. I can see the gold helmets of the Kingsguard making it through the gates, which means Joffery made it to safety. When I turn, I see Sansa alone being surrounded by men. Her face is pale and dirty with her hair loose and in disarray. I gather all my courage and push my way to get to her.  
Jon makes it into the Red Keep with one of Sansa’s handmaidens. She has a nasty cut on her arm from the rioters. If Jon wouldn’t have helped her, she’d be dead. He sees Joffery pacing around calling for the deaths of the rioters outside. His eyes widen as Tyrion slaps Joffery across the face. He can't believe that he has the gall to strike a king. “My Lord,” he calls out to Tyrion. Joffery clutches his face and both Lannister's turn to Jon. “Lady Lia and Lady Sansa are still out there.” Tyrion stands abruptly and looks around. “WHERE IS THE STARK GIRL?” “LET THEM HAVE THEM!” Joffery snarls. Tyrion turns to him aghast. “If Sansa dies we’ll never get your uncle Jamie back and Lia is your cousin! The heir to Casterly Rock!” Joffery turns away and doesn’t say anything.  
Tyrion looks to Jon and back to Joffery. He strides over to Ser Meryn. “Take some men and find my niece and the Stark girl.” Meryn looks down on Tyrion. “I take my orders from the king,” he spits. Joffery pointedly looks away and Jon wants nothing more then to take his head off. Jon pushes past Tyrion and Ser Meryn and walks outside of the castle without a second thought. He will not leave his sister or Lia out in this chaos.  
I pick up my skirts and run after the men chasing Sansa. When I catch up with them, she’s on the ground trying to crawl away. I grip my knife tightly in my hand and lunge at the attacker closest to me. I stab my blade into the back of his neck; hearing him gurgle on his own blood before collapsing. “Sansa!” I call out to her. She cries out when they rip her dress. Anger boils in my veins as I see them trying to hurt her, trying to rape her. Another man turns to me and his eyes move up and down my body. “Look’s like we got another one. This ones older.” The man holding Sansa on the ground turns, “Think you can defend yourself with a little knife like that?” My eyes harden and I grip the dagger as tightly as I can. “Let her go and I’ll let you live.” They all laugh and one begins to advance on me.  
When he rushes at me I move out of his way and stab him in the back as he passes. He howls in pain and shoves me backwards with a slap to my face. I hit the ground hard and watch as he pulls my silver knife from his back. “That hurt bitch,” he snarls viciously at me. I see the other men trying to hold Sansa’s legs open and I start to push myself to my feet. Sandor Clegane appears out of nowhere and picks up the man in front of me with one arm. His armor is covered in blood and he snaps the attackers neck with ease. He drops the body onto the floor before moving to kill the men attacking Sansa. He slices open the first mans stomach and I watch as his innards fall to the ground. He easily kills the last two; even when one man tries to run away.  
I push myself to my feet and grab my fallen blade. “Sansa,” I call to her with a shaky voice. “You’re alright now, little bird,” Sandor softly says to her. I've never heard his voice so gentle. He puts her over his shoulder and looks to me. “Can you follow us?” I swallow my fear and nod, unable to find my words. “Good,” he mutters. I follow him outside of the small house we were in and immediately Jon comes up to me. His eyes take in the scene before him and he grabs my hand. I clutch onto him like a lifeline. The riot has only grown more violent. I can smell blood and hear the screams of the ones not fortunate enough to make it to safety.  
I feel immense relief when we make it through the gates. Tyrion is pacing next to it when we enter. “Lia,” he calls out to me. I'm relieved to see him unharmed. “I’m alright uncle.” His gaze moves to Sandor and Sansa. “Are you hurt My Lady?” He asks her desperately. Sansa shakes her head but I can see that she’s trembling. “The little bird is bleeding,” Sandor points out. “Someone should take her back to her cage.” Her maids hurry over to her and they grip her hands to help her out of the room. “Well done Clegane,” Tyrion praises. “I didn’t do it for you,” he bites out at him.  
Jon takes me by the arm and escorts me to my chamber. As soon as we enter he shuts the door and latches it shut. “Why didn’t you go to the Red Keep? I saw you were with your uncle.” I meet his gaze sadly. “I saw Sansa get cornered. I couldn’t leave her.” “I should go check on her,” Jon says softly. I nod and move back over to the window with Ghost by my side. 

 

 

Jon comes back a few hours later to find me still sitting by the window. “Are you alright?” I look back at him and shrug. “I suppose so. How’s your sister?” He sighs and gently sits down next to me. “Shaken up,” he informs me. “Her handmaiden cleaned her up.” I think of Shae and realize perhaps I was wrong about her; she seems to be helping Sansa. Hopefully her cuts were properly cleaned and she can find some rest, with no nightmares.  
“You could have died out there,” Jon points out. “You would have given up your life for my sister?” “Yes,” I answer him quietly. “Sansa is my friend and she’s your sister. Of course I’d die to protect her.” He brings his fingers to the small cut on the side of my mouth. “I should have stayed by your side,” he murmurs faintly. “You did what was right,” I reply. “That is why I love you.” His gaze softens and his hand drops back into his lap. “You protected my sister again when you didn’t have to. That’s why I love you.”  
I look away from his heated gaze; feeling a flush creep across my cheeks. Jon places his fingers on my chin and forces me to look back at him. My breath catches, as I look at the adoration in his dark eyes. I lean forward slightly and we’re close enough that I can feel his breath on my face. “Jon I-,” I hesitate slightly, unsure how to continue.  
Jon closes what little distance between us remains and his lips are hot on mine. I reciprocate immediately; my hands pulling him closer to me. One of his hands is still cupping my chin while the other is pressed flat against the small of my back. My fingers grip the front of his tunic as he deepens the kiss. Our tongues clash together heatedly. I don't know if I can put into words how I feel.  
We pull apart breathlessly and I look up into his dark eyes. I take a few deep breaths as the thoughts race in my mind. I love Jon more then I ever thought possible. I know that I want him more then I’ve ever wanted anything before. I slide my palms up his chest and begin to untie the laces on his tunic. Jon’s eyes widen in surprise and he stops my fingers with his. “What are you doing?” I bite my lip and hesitantly answer him. “I want you.” Jon’s grey eyes widen at my response, I'm unsure if it's surprise or fear I see in them. “Lia,” he starts awkwardly. “You’re a highborn lady and I’m a bastard.” My brow furrows. “I don’t care, Jon. I told you that before. I love you, only you.” “But,” he begins to protest again but I cut him off with my lips. He’s sitting frozen beneath me and I use it to my advantage.  
I press myself against him fully and I hear his breath catch in his chest. His lips begin to move against mine and his hands slide down my sides to grip my hips. This time he doesn’t stop my fingers as I pull on the strings of his tunic. We break apart and I easily pull the edge of it over his head. I stare at his bare chest in awe. I skim my fingers over the top of his skin; watching as he shudders under my touch.  
Jon leans back toward me and kisses me more fiercely then before. His skin is warm beneath my fingers as they roam across his bare chest. Jon’s hand slides up my leg and my entire body begins to tingle with anticipation. He reaches the tie on my dress and pulls away from my lips. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I nod my head and I press his hand back against the laces of my dress. “More then anything,” I reply against his lips. Jon’s eyes shine with excitement as he unfastens the dress. He pulls it apart and slides it off my shoulders.letting it pool beneath me.  
His eyes move over my bare torso and I feel myself flush under his gaze. He licks his lips with eagerness. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin. I can feel heat pooling between my legs in a feeling I've never felt before, as his tongue moves down the curve of my neck. He holds me closer and our bare chests are pressed against each other, eliciting a growl from his throat. I kick off my boots just as his tongue moves to my breast. I’ve never felt such a sensation before and a moan escapes my lips. “Oh Jon,” I gasp out.  
It seems that he takes my moans as encouragement and one of his hands moves to the waistband of my trousers. He slips his hand inside and I feel his hand in between my legs. I gasp out his name in pleasure as his fingers slide into the wetness between my legs. I spread them apart farther for him to have easier access. I move my own hands to his knees, letting them slowly slide up his thighs. When I hesitantly move my own fingers between his legs, I can feel the hardness of him pressed against his pants. Jon moans into my lips when I rub his hardness through his pants.  
He slides a finger inside me and I’m practically quivering in his arms. My entire body shivering in pleasure. I pull his pants down; letting them pool at his ankles. I stare at his naked body in amazement. I’d never seen a nude man before. Jon’s finger is still inside me and I’m almost thrusting up into his hand, the sensation overwhelming me, a need to continue. “Lia,” Jon moans into my ear. “I don’t think I-,” he stops with a shudder. I understand his meaning and he reluctantly pulls his hand out of my pants. I take them off and kick them aside.  
Jon’s eyes move up and down my naked body and I watch him clench and unclench his fists as his eyes move down to my hips. I take his hand gently in mine and walk us over to the bed. I pull the sheets back and slide to the other side. Jon is still standing there watching me. “Are you coming?” I ask shakily. He is silent for a moment before taking the place next to me. We lie next to each other unsure of what to do now. “Jon,” I whisper. “Yes?” “I’ve never had sex before,” I admit softly. “I’m nervous.”  
“I’ve never slept with anyone either,” Jon says gently. “Do you not want to-,” he trails off awkwardly. “No I do," I answer. "I’m just scared.” I move closer to him and kiss him gently. “It’ll be alright,” Jon says. “We’ll go slow.” I nod in agreement and he shifts his position so that I’m underneath him. I spread my legs to give him room and he kisses me once more. I give Jon a nod and he uses one of his hands to guide himself inside me. The first thing I feel is pain and tears well up in my eyes. My septa told me that my first time would be uncomfortable but I didn’t expect it to hurt so much. Jon notices my tears and wipes them away with his thumbs. “Do you want to stop?” He asks hoarsely. I shake my head quickly. “No keep going.”  
He moves his hips very slowly against mine. The pain starts to fade away and it soon starts to feel good. I begin to move my hips up against his and Jon’s eyebrows arch up in surprise, his pupils dilating. Pleasure radiates through me and I can’t stop myself from moaning. Jon’s arms start to shake beside my head and the pressure between my hips grows. I climax beneath him crying out his name. Jon’s thrusts become less forceful and he cries out my name and I feel him spill everything inside me.  
He collapses next to me on the bed, panting. He gathers me in his arm and presses a kiss to my sweaty temple. “That was incredible,” Jon exclaims. I burrow closer to him and press my lips to his cheek. “I had no idea how good it would end up feeling.” He grins at me sheepishly. “I thought I was hurting you.” I think back at the tearing pain inside me. “It did hurt at first,” I admit softly. “But you were there.” 

 

We spend the rest of the night tangled in each other’s arms. We make love two more times and we both decide that it’s our favorite thing to do. He tells me more stories of Winterfell, particularly ones with Arya in them. I tell him more about Casterly Rock and my childhood. But his seems much better then my own. He was able to grow up with brothers and sisters, whereas I was usually alone.  
The following morning we wake before my handmaidens come to my chamber. Jon watches sullenly as I dress myself. “I think you should keep the dress off.” I giggle at his suggestive actions. “I have siege preparations to assist with. I think I’d like to be dressed for it.” “Oh alright,” he concedes. “I should check on my sister.” After he gets dressed I return to his arms. “Have a good day,” I say while pressing my lips to his. “You too, my love. Be careful without me.” He leans down and his lips move heatedly against mine. We reluctantly break away from each other. “I’ll be waiting for you, my lady.” I watch him leave and sink into a chair.  
I can’t believe how much I love him. I never thought I’d ever sleep with someone outside of marriage. But the soreness between my legs is a sure point of what we did last night. My cheeks heat up as I remember the way we touched each other. I can’t wait to see him again tonight. I look at my messy bed and the blood stains. I grab the wine I had brought to my room last night and pour it over the stain. That should cover up any questions I don't want asked. I simply spilled, no harm in that.  
Tyrion informs me that Stannis’s fleet has been spotted sailing north towards us. He’ll be here in only a couple of days. We knew it was coming, but now it seems more real. I walk with he and Varys along the castle walls, watching as men scurry about in preparation for the attack. Blackwater Bay is calm and still. It’s hard to believe that a major battle will take place here soon. The city is already in distress enough, but this will be utter chaos.  
Tyrion talks about how the responsibilities fell between the siblings. I know he’s bitter about how Grandfather never treated him equally. But had he not been at Casterly Rock then he wouldn’t have had a major hand in raising me. I’m so thankful that he was there for me. “Jon Arryn and Ned Stark were good honorable men. But they disdained the game and all who play it,” Varys explains. “You enjoy the game.” “I do,” Tyrion concedes. “I didn’t expect it, but I do.”  
“You play it well,” Varys points out. “I’d like to keep playing it but if Stannis breaches the city it’ll be all over for us.” Varys’ expression darkens. “They say he burns his enemies alive as a tribute to the Lord of Light.” I resist a shiver. I’ve read a little about the fire priestesses across the sea and I’ve never liked what it said. It’s a dark faith for sure. Tyrion snorts and we look out onto the sea. “The Lord of Light wants people to burn, the drowned god wants them to drown. Why are all the gods such vicious cunts? Where is the god of tits and wine?” I giggle at his jest and wonder if every man in the seven kingdoms would convert to the glorious new faith. Varys tells us about the different religions of the Summer Isles. A far off land not many people have visited.  
Varys nervously looks around. “This morning, I heard an interesting song from Qarth, all the way beyond the Red Waste.” I enjoy hearing about places across the sea so it piques my interest. “Daenerys Targaryen lives.” “There’s still a Targaryen alive?” I blurt out in wonder. Tyrion cuts me off with a look and I return to silence. “A girl on the other side of the world is the least of our problems.” “She has three dragons,” Varys points out dutifully.  
My mind wanders in amazement. Somewhere across the sea three baby dragons are living. The thought is strange and I find myself wanting to see them. I wonder what this Targaryen woman is like? Is she like her father, the mad king? I’m sure she’s better then Joffery; most people are. “Even if what they say is true, it’ll be years before they are fully grown. Then there will be no where to hide.” “One game at a time, my friend.”  
Stannis will be here anytime now. We have constant lookouts placed all over the city and spies on the outside. Joffery pretends to be interested in siege preparations but my uncle and I do all of the work. We have stones and bundles of arrows already on the walls. A few gates have been blocked off and each person must be checked in with a guard. We're trying to prevent spies gaining access to the city. The inside of the city must be secure while we deal with the threat that will be at our doorstep. The last thing we need is to be attacked inside and out. Bronn has helped us draw up a battle plan. His gold cloaks make up most of our army. My Lannister guards will be split up accordingly. Some will be kept in Maegor’s Holdfast with Cersei and the other highborn ladies, but most will be here, protecting the gate.  
Despite the protest from my uncle, I’ve chosen to fight in the battle. I’m much more suited to being out here where I’m needed then cowering like the other women. If the city falls I’d rather be dead in the sand then being raped in the castle. Sansa understands my choices but I know that she’ll miss me when she is forced to cry and hide with the other ladies. I leave Varys and Tyrion to their discussion and make my way back to the royal wing of the castle.  
When I arrive in my chamber only Ghost awaits me. I scratch him behind the ears and murmur kind things to him. I wonder if he’s hot in this weather? Direwolves normally live beyond the Wall, even seeing them in the north is rare. Jon and the Stark children were fortunate to find their pups. Though, I suppose Ghost isn’t a pup anymore. He weighs more then I do and is still growing steadily. In a few years he’ll be nearly as big as my horse and far stronger.  
“You’ll never believe what Varys told my uncle and I today,” I blurt to Jon as soon as he enters my chamber. I stand when he enters and I immediately enter his outstretched arms. “What did he say?” “Dragons exist,” I tell him excitedly. “What?” Jon asks with confusion evident in his voice. “There’s a Targaryen girl across the sea," I I stop and think about the name Varys said. "Daenerys I think, Daenys maybe. They call her the mother of dragons. It’s said she has three baby ones that she hatched. It’s incredible.” “Really?” Jon asks taking note of my excitement. “I never thought they’d exist again.” “I wish I could see them,” I mutter faintly. “I don’t think Daenerys Targaryen would want you any where near them.” I sigh while sinking into his arms. “You’re probably right.”  
He chuckles and we nearly fall over onto the ottoman together. “How was your day?” “It was alright. The city is growing scared for the siege. We’ve prepped as much as we can.” “Sansa is frightened,” Jon tells me. “She’s worried about what happens if the Lannister’s lose.” I can see that these aren’t only her worries, but also his. His normally bright eyes are drooped with worry. “I told you what will happen. You’ll stay and protect her,” I tell him firmly. “I can’t lose you,” he murmurs while leaning into me. I smile sadly and push some of his dark curls back with my fingers. “If the worst happens, you’ll do your duty. I know you’d never let anyone hurt your sister.”  
“I will be by your side during the battle.” I open my mouth to protest his decision but he cuts me off. “I will do as you command on this condition. I want to protect you during the battle. I have to, Lia.” “Fine,” I consent after a moment. I try to ignore the way my heart flutters at his bold words. “But if the battle turns then you return to your sister, deal?” He glowers but shakes my outstretched hand. “Deal.”  
Once our hands are back at our sides, Jon pulls me into his lap. My eyes widen in surprise at his action. He’s not usually so forward, but it sends excitement down my spine. Before I can even say anything his lips are on mine, hot and fast. He opens my mouth with his and his tongue tangles with mine. I pull away from him breathlessly; both our face are flushed and smiling. “I love you,” I say against his skin. He sighs and cups my chin with his fingers. Our eyes meet and I can see his emotion pouring through them. “I love you more then I ever thought possible.” My heart beats wildly in my chest as our lips meet once more. And I find myself so excited for the rest of the night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle of the blackwater is here!

I lie restless in bed for the third night in a row. The whole city has been panicked due to Stannis’s fleet approaching. We all know they're coming. Tyrion has done the best that he can to prepare the city for the attack. But we simply don't have the man power for much. Several of the city gates have been walled off but we don’t have enough materials to take care of all of them. Tyrion has filled me in on his plan for the attack. It’s incredibly risky to put this much faith in wildfire, considering how dangerously unstable it is. But I trust his judgment in tough situations. Really the wildfire is our only hope. I understand that we can't stand against Stannis's manpower. I helped Tyrion prepare the dummy boat with the barrels of wildfire. Neither of us wanted any more people then necessary to know about it. Varys told us that Stannis has sympathizers all over the city, and with sympathizers you always get spies. We can't risk word getting to him of the wildfire. If he knew...we wouldn't survive.  
Soon I find myself unable to even be in bed any longer. My anxiety is at an all time high. I kick the covers aside gently, not wishing to disturb Jon, who is asleep beside me. I wrap a light blue silk robe around my bare body and step out onto the balcony. The city is dark below me, with only a few fires flickering on the walls. I assume there are patrols out there waiting and watching for signs of an impending attack. It’s strange to think that the entire city will be changed in just a small amount of time. The thought that in just a few short days I could be dead sends shivers down my spine. I know Stannis will kill every Lannister he can get his hands on, even though some of us are innocent. The fact that his crazy Red Priestess will most likely burn us alive doesn’t help my fear. That must be one of the most agonizing ways to die.  
A warm hand on my shoulder pulls me away from my dark thoughts. “Lia, are you alright?” I shrug my shoulders and tear my gaze from the sleeping city. Jon’s brow is furrowed and I can tell that he’s still sleepy by his hoarse voice. “I’m frightened,” I finally admit softly. Jon wraps me in a comforting embrace and rocks me back and forth. “It’ll be alright. We can make it through this.” “I’m not so sure,” I reply; though his chest muffles my voice. “I’ll be by your side,” Jon reassures me. “I’ll protect you always.” I try and let his words comfort me but the fear is still constant in my mind. How can you not be scared when someone is on their way to kill you and your whole family? Stannis has made that his purpose.  
Jon’s fingers trace my jawline and he leans down to press his lips against mine. “Let me help get your mind off of it,” he murmurs against my skin. I sigh in contentment and watch as he pushes the robe off of my shoulders. It pools onto the floor at my feet, revealing my naked body to him. The cool night air blows in from the window tracking goose bumps on my arms and legs. Jon easily picks me up and walks us back over to my bed. He gently sets me on the edge and my bare feet ghost over the top of the stone tiled floor. “What did you have in mind?” I ask breathlessly.  
A smirk appears on his lips as sinks onto his knees. “I heard some of the guards talking about something,” he tells me with a wicked grin. “And I’d thought that maybe we could try it.” I raise my eyebrows in surprise and then recognition when he starts kissing my inner thighs.

 

I wake up as soon as the sound of bells ringing in the distance reaches my ears. Jon jerks awake as well and unwraps his arms from around my torso. “I have to go. I’ll see you soon.” He presses a quick kiss to my lips and disappears outside the room after grabbing his clothes off of my floor. As soon as he’s gone I miss the warmth he brings when we’re next to each other. Those could have been my last few moments of peace. I take a few deep breaths and try to calm my racing heart. Those bells can only mean one thing, invasion. He left as quickly as we discussed. We’re both worried about being caught by someone. We really shouldn't be risking anything, but I can't help myself. People’s spies are everywhere in the Red Keep. If one person knew, it wouldn’t be long until every person in the castle knew, including my aunt.  
My handmaidens briskly enter the room and help dress me in tight pants and tunic. They help me put my dark leather boots on my feet. They are silent as they work and I know they must be frightened as well. Everyone knows what happens to women when a city is sacked. Some in the city might even remember the last time, when my grandfather was the one who commanded it. King's Landing was in mourning for a long time after that siege. After they are finished I dismiss them to go to the maiden vault with the other ladies, where they will be safe. I give them instructions to keep an eye on Sansa while Jon and I are up on the walls. I may not entirely trust these girls, but right now they are on my side and that is what matters.  
A squire comes in with my newly refurbished armor. He straps it on with ease and polishes the small lion on the chest of the armor. I’m not one to flaunt my sigil and I don’t want to stick out on the battlefield. Stannis and his men will be out for blood, namely Lannister blood. If I'm running around in bright golden armor with lions on it, that would make me an easy target. He hands me my quiver of arrows and I sling it over my shoulder before doing the same with my bow. Finally he straps my weapons belt tightly around my waist and I watch as he places my sword and knives into their respective sheathes. “Is that all you need, My Lady?” “Yes, go on and get yourself ready,” I reply looking away. “Be safe,” I add before he leaves the room. “You as well, My Lady. I’ll pray to the mother to have mercy on us all.”  
I look around my room, perhaps for the last time, and I close the door. I lock it behind me. I know it's pointless, but if I can make something a little harder, I will. The halls are already quiet and I make my way to the throne room. Bronn and Tyrion are already waiting for me when I arrive. “Bronn, Uncle,” I greet softly. “Are we ready?” Bronn nods once. “I know what I have to do. You should be more worried about your uncle.” I look down at my heavily armored Uncle; he’s even carrying a battle-axe. He looks strange in armor. “I think he will be just fine. If not though, I’ll protect him,” I add with a wink. Bronn shakes Tyrion’s hand. “Don’t get killed.” “Nor you my friend.” “Oh,” Bronn asks sarcastically. “Are we friends now?” “Of course we are,” Tyrion replies aghast. “Just because I pay you doesn’t diminish our friendship.” Bronn nods while chuckling. “Enhances it, really.” “Enhances. That’s a fancy word for a sellsword.” “Been spending time with fancy folks,” he says with a wink. “Good luck Bronn,” I add before he leaves. “And to you as well, my lady.” He bows deeply to me, but I can see the smirk on his lips. A lot of our plan relies on Bronn, but Tyrion trusts him and so do I. I'll never forget how he saved Tyrion in the Vale.  
He bows to Sansa and I share a hesitant look with my uncle. Why is she in here? Surely she should be in the Maidenvault already. We both walk down the steps, myself much quicker than my uncle. “Lady Sansa and uh Sheila?” I resist the urge to roll my eyes at his obvious fakeness. Sansa wouldn't think it was strange for him to know her handmaidens name. “Shae,” she spits back. “Surely my sister has asked you to join her and the other ladies in Maegor’s Holdfast?” “She has my lord,” Sansa begins after nervously looking at me. “But King Joffery has asked me to see him off.” “Sansa!” I hear Joffery’s voice calling out from across the room. “Ah yes, always a romantic, my nephew.” “Sansa come here!” She begins to walk to him but stops and hugs me. She whispers in my ear and I know no one else can hear. “I will pray for you and my brother. Be careful Lia.” I swallow back a lump in my throat and softly reply, “thank you Sansa. You as well.” After releasing me she turns to Tyrion, “I will pray for your safe return my lord.” Tyrion looks skeptical, “will you?” “Just as I pray for the kings,” she smoothly replies and turns to go to Joffery’s side. Tyrion bids goodbye to Shae, “stay safe my lady.” She looks at him out of the corner of her eyes, “and you my lion.” “Take care of Sansa if anything should happen,” I whisper to her, before leaving with Tyrion and Podrick. I think Shae cares for Sansa and if the worst comes to pass, she'll help her flee the city, hopefully with Jon. Between the two of them, they should be able to get to Robb and Lady Catelyn.

 

Up on the wall all of our men are in battle formation. My Lannister guards are stationed all around us. I spoke with their commander and he suggested that he and his men stay close to the king and myself during the battle. They are fiercely loyal to my grandfather and wish to protect his grandchildren at all costs. Luckily Myrcella is in Dorne and Tommen will be protected inside the Red Keep with Cersei. Jon is already waiting on the wall for me when we arrive at our designated spot. He’s fully armed in the new armor I purchased for him but I can see the nervousness in his eyes. He's never fought in a battle of this caliber either. “Jon,” I greet softly. “My Lady,” he bows his head in return. “I saw your sister off in the throne room. She’ll be safe with my aunt.” He sends me a look and we both know that should the worse happen he must leave my side to go to hers, as I've commanded. I know he hates it, but that is simply how it has to be. “Ghost is waiting in her chamber should she have need of him,” he whispers to me. I nod and while I think it’s a good idea, it would be nice to have him out here with us. Ghost would tear through anybody who tried to harm Jon. He's grown to almost the size of a horse now.  
Joffery and his kingsguard join us on the wall. “Hello Lancel,” I greet my cousin with a smile. “Lady Lia,” he looks at me in surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you out here with the men.” My smile falls off of my lips. Why is that the first thing he says? It's incredibly rude and disrespectful. “I am more capable then most people out here,” I reply coolly. In my mind I add, more capable than he is, but I don’t say it aloud. “Uh er oh, my apologies, Lady Lia.” I turn away from him and we all gaze out into the dark bay. I should have guessed Stannis would wait for nightfall to attack. “Where’s our fleet?” Lancel demands when he sees the bare sea. “We sent them away,” I tell him without turning. Joffery looks at Tyrion and me, his eyes bulging out of his head. “Why isn’t it here now? They’re coming!” Tyrion ignores him and continues looking forward. “Hound, tell the hand the king has asked him a question,” Joffery says with a glare. “The king has asked you a question,” Sandor responds, sounding clearly bored. “Ser Lancel tell the Hound to tell the king that the hand is extremely busy,” Tyrion retorts. Lancel begins to repeat the message but Joffery cuts him off. “If I tell the Hound to cut you in half, he’ll do it without a second thought.” “That would make me the quarterman,” Tyrion replies. “It just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” Jon and I share a look and I see that he's unsure of how to respond to Joffery's anger and impulsive tendencies. I decide to step in before it gets worse. Tyrion will listen to me and Joffery would maybe shut his mouth for the moment.  
“Would you two please stop arguing,” I snap at them. “We’re all here to defend your city together, cousin. Let’s just get through this and we can argue later.” Joffery scoffs but doesn’t agitate Tyrion further. “Thank you Lia,” Tyrion replies happily. “Now I’ll be able to give the signal we agreed upon,” he says casting a nasty glare at Joffery. Tyrion needs to focus so Bronn can send the arrow in time. Otherwise everything will backfire. Squires light all of our torches and the wall is filled with nervous men. There shifting on their feet and I hear prayers to the gods. Many of them understand that should we fail, their loved ones will be the next to suffer. I thank the gods that Jon is by my side. His presence steadies me even though we cannot touch. I can't believe I wanted him to stay behind.  
I hear something in the wind and I hold up my hand to silence those around me. “Do you hear that?” Everyone immediately falls quiet and Jon answers me grimly, “drums.” Joffery then points out to sea, “there they are.” I follow his finger and see the first ships begin to break through the fog in the bay. Tyrion nods to me and I call out to the men. “Archers to your mark!” Men pick up my call and I quickly pull my bow over my shoulder and load it with one of my arrows. “Knock your arrows!” Jon falls behind me allowing me more room to move and the others around simply watch me. “Lia,” Joffery begins. “Can you even shoot?” I turn my head barely to the side and cheekily reply, “yes your grace. I do believe I can.” “Holdfast!” Tyrion shouts to the men and we all sit still, waiting for his command. We can't let arrows loose before Bronn lights the bay on fire.  
“What are you doing?! We need to attack them!” Joffery barks at my uncle. I can hear the panic in his voice. “Holdfast!” Tyrion spits at Joffery. I wish he would stop intervening. We don’t want him to ruin the plan. He may be king but he needs to trust that we know what we’re doing. Tyrion and I worked very hard to make sure that no one in the city knew what we were going to do besides the most minimal amount possible. If Joffery wanted to know what we were doing he should have taken part in our preparations. I watch as our one and only ship sails out to meet them. It looks so sad out there alone. I pray that the winds out on the bay aren’t too high and it keeps its course, as all we could do was tie the wheel. “There’s only one ship,” Joffery says in confusion as he glances between us and the bay. “WHERE ARE THE REST OF THEM?” Tyrion’s hand reaches for my arm and he grips tightly. The Alchemist master places a torch in his free hand and even Jon is looking at me in confusion. Only about ten people know of our plan. I just chose not to share the information with Jon, even though I trust him. Joffery backs away from the torch as Tyrion moves forward. He tosses it over the wall and down onto the ground, the signal Bronn has been waiting for.  
I hold my breath and Tyrion’s fingers tighten on my arm as a burning arrow is seen sailing through the air. The moment it hits the water it ignites and I can see the bright green fire burning towards the ship. The moment it explodes the entire area is lit up so bright that we all turn away. Jon’s arms steady me as I turn into him as I shield my eyes. I try not to think about the thousands of men we just burned gruesomely alive. I return my gaze to the horrific scene before me and I bring my gloved hand to my mouth in horror. I have to remember that they would have killed me if they had a chance. But that doesn't help my guilt. Joffery is grinning joyously as the sounds of thousands of men screaming reaches us on the wall. Tyrion notices my expression and I see in his eyes he feels similar.  
A small part of me hopes that this would be enough to frighten them and abandon their attack, but I know Stannis won’t let this stop him from taking the city. He believes that the throne is his by right for some reason, even though his older brothers children are ahead of him in the rightful line of succession. But as I presumed, I can see rowboats headed towards the shore. Jon seems to sense my distress and his hand finds mine. His thumb moves in small circles across the back of my hand and it relaxes me a little bit. I have to remember that these men are here to kill us and take the city. That they would kill Tommen and Sansa and anyone in their way.  
“He’s a serious man, that Stannis Baratheon,” Tyrion says while looking down at the rowboats headed this way. “They’re coming ashore,” Joffery says and I can hear the fear in his voice. It’s not surprising considering he is untrained and the one all of those men down there wish to kill. Tyrion looks up at me, his eyes hard and unwavering. “Rain fire on them.” I release Jon’s hand and take my place on the dais in front of them. “ARCHERS,” men are calling out around us. We have as many men with bows as we could afford. “There’s too many,” Joffery practically whimpers. “Hound form a welcoming party for any Baratheon troop who finds himself on solid ground," Tyrion orders. Pod,” he then turns to address his squire. “Bring any man guarding the other gate here, now!” Pod and The Hound both hurry away to do as they’re told.  
Jon, Joffery and Tyrion both stand behind me as I light and nock my arrow. I pull my bowstring back and prepare my aim. I can see where the closest rowboat is going to land and choose that as my target. I lick my lips and my fingers hold tightly to the feather at the end of the arrow. I hear the enemy battle cries and the moment “LOOSE,” is shouted I release my arrow. I watch as it flies down and takes out one of the approaching men. I follow the commander as he shouts orders and I clear my mind completely. I know if I’m nervous I won’t be able to hit anything. Once the enemy reaches the wall they are shielded from our arrows. Tyrion calls for the rocks to begin to be tossed down.  
I see men with bows of their own begin to kneel and take aim. I start to target them, as right now they are the ones who can do damage to us. I don’t even realize that I’m holding my breath until I’m panting for air. My lungs burn with exertion and the smoky air from the bay does nothing to help. I see an arrow headed this way and I shout, “DUCK!” I shove Joffery out of the way and I watch as it sails over us and it’s the stonewall right where we were standing. Jon lips are pulled into a grimace as he pulls me back to my feet, I can see his worry in his eyes. One of the kingsguard returns Joffery to his as well.  
Joffery's mouth is agape as he stares at me. Apparently I get no thanks for saving his life. Jon continues to hand me arrows as I shoot them down below. At this point, The Hound is on the ground with some of our men. I can see him swiping his greatsword at enemies around him. I keep all of my shots away from anyone with our armor on. They’re moving so quickly I don’t want to risk shooting someone from our city. Joffery and Tyrion run down the stairs when The Hound returns inside the gates. I could see that our men were being overwhelmed and we can’t risk sending out another group. We'll need to come up with a better plan. Jon and I stay up top to continue firing. I watch as the enemy begins unloading a stag shaped ram from one of the boats. We cannot stand against that. I know that the end will be coming if they break through the gate. “Jon,” I call out. “What?” I swallow back my tears and turn to him, slowly lowering my bow to my side. He must be able to see my fear and hopelessness in my eyes. “No,” he furiously shakes his head. “Lia no!” “I think you should retrieve your sister and leave the city. Between you and Ghost you’ll be able to make it to Robb in no time.” “No!” Jon shouts. “This is not over. I promised I’d stay by your side through the whole battle.” “Jon-” “NO. I will not leave. Not yet.” Next time I bring it up I know I'll have to order him to go. That is the only way he'll do his duty.

 

When I hear shouting coming from the courtyard, I run past the other archers towards the stairs. When I look over the ledge I see Joffery leaving the courtyard with Ser Meryn. All the men stand and watch as he goes. Hopelessness sweeps through them like a wave on the sea. “Where is he going?” I demand as I walk from above. Before anyone replies the men hauling rocks are forced out of the way as one of them is killed by an arrow, causing all of the rocks to slam into the ground. “Uncle!” I shout and I leap over the ledge to his land by his side. “Where the fuck is he going?” Tyrion shakes his head and looks up at me. I can see in his eyes that there isn’t much for us to do now. Pod dashes up to us and hands Tyrion his axe and helmet, he looks uncertain.  
“I’ll lead the attack,” he whispers. I turn to him in alarm. I was going to offer to go out there but he beat me to it. Tyrion isn't trained to use weaponry. He can't go out there. “Uncle you can’t-,” I begin but he cuts me off. “I’LL LEAD THE ATTACK!” Men below us whisper among themselves as Tyrion orders them to form up. Their morale is gone with Joffery. I can’t believe he left us here to defend his city while he hides inside the keep like a coward. He's no leader. “Men?” Tyrion’s voice is shaky but true. “They say I’m half a man, but what does that make the lot of you?” He cries out when men begin to leave. “The only way out is through the gates,” a soldier points out. “And they’re at the gates.” Tyrion looks up at me, his gaze unwavering. “There’s another way out. I’m going to show you. We will come out behind them and fuck them in their asses!” He stops speaking when we hear the gate beginning to be rammed repeatedly. It seems they are knocking on the door, only they don't need permission.  
“Don’t fight for your king,” Tyrion continues, his expression hard as he no doubt thinks of Joffery. “And don’t fight for his kingdoms. Don’t fight for honor or glory! Don’t fight for riches because you certainly won’t get any.” Jon takes my bow and sets it aside as he senses what is coming. I’m beaming down at my uncle as he continues his speech. “This is your city that Stannis and his men are going to sack! That’s your gate he’s ramming." He points back to where some of the men are holding the gate. "If he does get in, it will be your houses he burns and your women his men will rape.” I can see Lancel down below, injured but still present. Joffery should take note of his bravery. I hear the gate begin to crack just as Tyrion finishes. “Those are brave men knocking at our door! Let’s go kill them!” Every man raises his sword and cheers and I join them. My blade feels strong in my hand and I’m prepared to fight and die for the city.  
As he begins to walk down the stairs I walk with him. “I’m going with you.” “I had no doubt,” Tyrion replies to me. “That was the best speech I’ve ever heard uncle.” “Thank you. I had no idea what to say to them.” Jon and Pod are walking just behind us and behind them are the two kingsguard Joffery left to take his place. Behind them all the men follow our lead, many of us may be walking to our deaths.  
Tyrion leads us through a maze of tunnels that he informs me Varys showed him a map of. I had been in these tunnels before as a girl but I had no idea how to get around in them. I was once lost down here for hours till an older man found me and brought me back to my father. I remember that I was crying when the man came across me. He was kind enough to take my hand and guide me back to the throne room where my father was. I remember the relief on my father’s face as I ran to him, still sobbing. Robert rewarded the man, as did my grandfather. I don’t know who he was or how he knew the tunnels but I was very lucky he found me. I could have died down there.  
Soon a metal gate to the outside is in front of us and Tyrion cuts the chain off with a swing of his axe. All of the men are silent and Jon’s hand finds mine in the darkness. I hope if the battle turns he will obey my orders and find his sister. I may not be able to order him once we get out there. I cling onto his hand for a moment before we both let go. It was a reassurance that the other person was still there. We climb through the brush that conceals the gate and find ourselves outside the walls. All the Baratheon men are focused on the ramming of the gate and our archers that still remain up top. None of them notice us as we silently creep through the sand toward them. There is a man shouting orders about climbing ladders and picking up the pace. Tyrion make’s a beeline for him, leading our men. I watch him swing his axe at the man’s leg; taking it off completely. He screams in agony but it abruptly stops when Tyrion swings the axe into his face. He gestures forward with the battleaxe, “ATTACK!” 

 

Our men charge forward with battle cries to attack the Baratheon men. I surge past my uncle and swipe my sword at the first enemy I see. My newly sharpened blade slices through flesh and armor as if it’s nothing. I continue cutting my way through men quite easily. Our surprise attack seemed to work and has taken them completely off guard. My sword clashes against another with a loud clang. The mere impact of the strike jars my arm so much that I nearly drop my own blade. I grit my teeth as I force all my weight against it. “You’re a woman!” The man gasps in surprise. I use his momentary hesitancy to thrust one of my daggers through the weak point at his neck. It sinks into his flesh and I watch as he coughs blood through his helmet hole and falls on the ground.  
I return my dagger to my belt and look around the battlefield. Men are dying all around me. I can hear their agonized screams echoing around me. But many of the dead on the ground are Baratheon men, which means are attack is working. About ten feet away Tyrion is calling for our men to roll over the rowboat the Baratheon men used as protection from our arrows. The archers on the wall toss down a torch and light it aflame so it cannot be used again. All of our troops begin to chant, “HALFMAN HALFMAN HALFMAN!” I stride forward to Tyrion’s side just as he removes his helm. He is looking on in disbelief. Not that I can blame him, my uncle wasn’t raised for military glory. This is a great sight, him getting the praise he deserves. I turn abruptly around when I hear the sound of other approaching men. Jon is instantly by my side, his armor covered in blood. “Oh fuck me,” Tyrion breathes out when he catches sight of the incoming enemy. “Lia,” Jon gasps out. “Get behind me.” I barely register his words as I look on at the sheer number of men charging toward us. “Lia!” Jon snaps and I regain focus. I don't want him to worry about me now, he needs to worry about himself. “I’m alright,” I finally reply just as our men charge forward to intercept them in a mass pit of blood and bodies.  
I dodge swords by instinct as they come towards me. Thankfully due to my smaller size I can move through the chaos without much trouble. I swipe at the legs of the enemy when they’re busy attacking Lannister soldiers. We’re dangerously outnumbered at this point, and we all know it. Jon nor my uncle aren’t anywhere in sight and I pray that they are both alive. I let out a moan when I realize that what we’re doing is making a last stand. I give myself five seconds to compose myself. I resolve to take down as many of these men as I can before I die. Jon should have noticed the same thing I did and returned to Sansa as I commanded. He has to go to her because if Tyrion and I die out here, Sansa has no friends in King's Landing. Everyone around her would be an enemy. My dagger moves quicker then any of their swords or maces. I slice through leather, flesh, and cloth without even thinking about it. My glove is slick with the blood of my victims. Thankfully due to my extensive studies back home I know where to cut a man to kill them quickly. The easiest is the back of the leg, which is usually slightly more unarmored then the rest of the body. I shove men out of my way when the fighting grows thick, but I know it’s useless. I’m simply on borrowed time. I intervene when I see one of my men getting beaten back. A Baratheon soldier knocks off his helmet and I can see that my man is only a boy, perhaps only a year or so older then me. I can see the fear in his brown eyes as he falls to the ground. I charge forward as fast as I can, somehow not tripping on a body or slipping in blood.  
My body slams into the much larger Baratheon soldier before he strikes the boy. We fall to the ground in a tangle of limbs. His arm tosses me aside and I hit the sand hard. All the air is knocked out of my lungs. I roll out of the way when he swings his mace down, and it hits the sand right where my body just was. I reach for my belt but find it missing. My heart skips a beat and soon all I hear is my heart thudding in my ears. No more screams or battle cries. The only thing in the world is this man and me. And I have no way to defend myself. When he swings his mace at me again, I leap backwards out of its range. He lets out a loud growl and all the hair on my body stands on end. I pick up a Baratheon shield nearby and when he charges at me I slam it into his mace-wielding arm as hard as I can. A pained groan escapes his lips, the sound amplified by the helmet he has on. I think I broke his arm from the blow, but I need to keep moving.  
But when I lower my arm he rears back and his boot connects with my stomach. The blow sends me sailing back into the sand, which is wet with blood. The shield flies out of my grip and lands somewhere out of my reach. I blink a few times as I gasp for any air I can get. When my eyes return to focus he’s standing over me. This close I can see that he has light blue eyes and a dark colored beard. His eyes are unkind and his mouth is bloody. I struggle uselessly beneath him and in the background I hear an unfamiliar horn cut through the air. He doesn’t seem fazed by it so it must be their reinforcements from the other side of the city. All of his weight is on my legs as he kneels down on top of me. “A girl eh?” He asks and his voice is low and gravelly. His breath stinks of onions and beets. When he leans his head close to me I spit at him with as much force as I can muster. But all he does is laugh and wipe his helmet with his green sleeve. “You’re a pretty little thing. Spitfire too.” I look at him with a hard gaze. “Fuck you.” He laughs again, “Oh sweetheart. That’s what I intend to do to you.” When he brings his hand to my face I bite his fingers as hard as I can. The taste of blood fills my mouth just as he screams in pain. He uses his uninjured hand to hit me in the face a few times. My head is ringing from the hits and I sit in a daze. When my eyes regain focus I see one of his hands down the front of his pants. His eyes are rolled back in his head as he pleasures himself. His other hand begins to tug at my armor as he tries to pull it out of the way. Just as he finds the straps, men on horses begin to cut through the Baratheon men.  
I spy a finely armored man on a white horse charging towards us. My attacker is so preoccupied that he hasn’t even noticed the newcomers. I watch as the man atop the white horse jumps down to his feet with his sword ready. He swings the blade at the head of the man on top of me, taking it clean off. Blood spills everywhere from his neck. His body shudders once and falls on top of me. His blood spills onto my face hot and fast. I spit out the blood that goes into my mouth and reach a hand out towards the man who saved me. I feel a gauntlet covered hand cover mine and pull me free. He is strong enough to pull me back to my feet and the Baratheon man’s body rolls over to the side. 

 

I hear him gasp when he looks at me. “You’re a girl,” he murmurs in disbelief. I curl over and begin to retch; my hand still locked around his. All the contents of my stomach come out quickly as I hadn’t eaten properly for days. When I straighten again I feel myself shaking and the man is still looking at me in shock. His silver helmet and armor cover all his features but his blue eyes. I raise my other hand to touch the side of my face and to my disgust I find it soaked in blood. I must look like a monster. I pull my hand from his grasp and look down at them, my palms facing up. One of my gloves is gone and the other is half torn off. Both my hands are shaking and each is covered in blood. “My name is Lia,” I croak out. “Lia Lannister. Can you take me to the Red Keep?” “Of course, My Lady. Forgive me I didn’t recognize you,” he exclaims while taking off his helm. “I’m Loras Tyrell,” he says quickly. Recognition flickers in the back of my mind but I’m in too much shock to do anything about it. He helps me onto his horse before climbing up behind me. He grabs the reigns in front of me and charges his horse forward back towards the city. The Baratheon's are getting slaughtered as we pass.  
When we reach the Red Keep, Loras helps me off of his horse. “Are you alright?” “Why are you here?” I question hesitantly. “Lord Baelish negotiated an alliance with my family. I rode here with your grandfather.” I perk up a little bit at the mention of Grandfather while I try to ignore the exhaustion setting in. “He’s here?” “Yes My Lady,” he replies and he points across the room. “He’s just over there.” Without another word I begin shoving my way through the people in the room. I can see my grandfather now; he’s dressed in his golden Lannister armor. He has some blood on him but he seems to be talking lively with some men I don’t recognize. I stumble forward but somehow keep my balance. “Grandfather,” I choke out. He turns to the sound of my voice, as does the men with him. Some bring their hands to their mouths as they look at me. I must be a horrific sight, dirty and covered in blood. “Lia?” My grandfather moves toward me with a shocked expression. I charge forward into his outstretched arms without hesitation. He pulls away and his eyes hover over me. “What happened to you?” “I was fighting outside the gates and I was knocked down and I-I-I,” I shudder and his eyes narrow. He turns his gaze back to the men he was speaking with. “If you’ll excuse me My Lords, I must be with my granddaughter now.” “Of course, we understand Lord Tywin,” one politely replies. "We will continue this conversation later. Take the time you need."  
Grandfather escorts me to the tower of the hand. “What happened?” He asks while helping me wipe off my face. The cloth he is using comes away covered in red blood. “I was fighting outside the gates with Tyrion and we got overwhelmed. I almost died grandfather,” I whisper. “Oh Lia. I know how hard battles are, especially your first. I’m glad you’re alright.” I move forward and wrap my arms around him, feeling incredibly thankful that he’s here. “I didn’t think you were going to come.” “Of course I was,” he replies. “It just took longer than we thought. But I’m here now.” “Loras Tyrell saved me,” I tell him. “This man,” I swallow a lump in my throat. “He was going to rape me.” I look at my grandfather timidly and I’m surprised by his expression. I’ve never seen him so angry before. “I will thank Ser Loras soon and so should you. We are very lucky to have them here. The Tyrell's are very useful allies.” He presses some water into my hand, “drink you need it.” I do as he says and my mind wanders back to the battle. The sounds of the screams after the wildfire play over and over in my head. Tyrion reaching for my arm...I stand, “where is uncle Tyrion?” My grandfather’s expression darkens. “He was injured outside.” I gasp, “Is he alright?” “Grand Maester Pycelle is attending him.” “What about Jon?” I blurt without thinking. “Jon?” “My sworn sword,” I clarify. “He was outside with me and we got separated.” “I don’t know, my dear. I’m sure he’s alright.”  
I get back to my feet and move towards the door. “I need to go check on him. I’ll come find you later, Grandfather. Thank you for coming back.” “I’ll always protect our family.” I hurry down the steps and back into the throne room. There are some injured men being treated around the room. “Lancel,” I call out when I catch sight of him. “Lia are you alright?” I can see he’s favoring one of his arms but otherwise seems unharmed. “I am," I lie quickly. "Thank you. Lancel have you seen Jon?” “Who?” I groan and push past him. He was useless. “Bronn?” I shout as I catch sight of him. “Lia? I heard your uncle got injured.” “He did,” I tell him sadly. “Have you seen Jon? I can’t find him.” Bronn looks around the room. “Yes I saw him a few minutes ago. He was looking for you, he sounded worried since no one had seen you.” “Where did you see him?” I desperately ask. I have to know if he's okay. I was so scared for my own life, I didn't think about his. I know Bronn catches the tone of my voice but he doesn’t say anything. “Just over there.” “Thank you Bronn,” I say while pushing my way back through the people gathered in the room.  
I spy Jon kneeling by someone on the ground. He seems to be alright and relief floods my veins. “Jon!” I watch as he gets to his feet and swirls around to look at me. I plant my feet on the ground and it takes all my willpower not to run to him. Our gazes are locked and he gestures to the corridor before walking in that direction. I follow him after looking nervously around the room, but no one seems to be paying any sort of attention. There are too many grievously wounded men that need attention. The moment the door closes behind me Jon’s fingers close over my wrist. He tugs me into a room and slams the door closed behind us. He envelops me into his arms, neither of us caring how dirty we are. “By the gods I thought you were dead,” he murmurs into my hair. “I almost was,” I reply. “I shouldn’t have lost you. I’m so sorry, Lia.” I look up at him and see an almost defeated expression in his eyes. “It’s not your fault Jon. It was chaos out there.” “I should have been by your side,” he argues. “We’re both alive and that is what matters.” “Did you find your sister?” I ask; feeling suddenly guilty about not thinking about her. I've been selfish. “Yes she’s alright. She was with Ghost when I checked on her. She said The Hound offered to take her home but she refused.” I frown as I wonder what his motives are. “That’s suspicious. I think she made the right decision by staying here. Now that my grandfather has returned perhaps we can end this foolish war.” Jon’s lips capture my own before I even finish speaking. “We should both get cleaned up,” Jon says when he finally pulls away from me. “We’ll have to be more careful now,” I whisper to him. “Now that my grandfather is back he’ll be watching me and we also need to keep a look out for Littlefinger. My Uncle told me he’s the most untrustworthy person in the seven kingdoms.” Jon nods and his hand slides against my cheek, “I understand. I’ll see you soon, my love.” I echo his words and watch him leave the room.  
Some handmaidens bring a bath to my chambers and by the time I’m done my water is tinted red. I can't believe I was covered in that much blood. My stomach turns and if I had anything in my stomach I would have vomited. I step out of the tub and I look at my naked body in a mirror. I have bruises all over my arms and legs and a massive one centered in my middle. It’s probably from being kicked in the stomach. I even have cuts sprinkled across my arms that I don’t remember getting. My face is also wounded. I have a black eye, a few cuts and bruises. I certainly don't look like a lady.  
My whole body is sore from the fight. It’s unsurprising considering the strength I used to sword fight last night. I dress in something loose, that won’t agitate any of my injuries and sink onto my bed, very eager to get some rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on out, cannon is changed drastically, just so you know! Thanks for reading and kudos and comments are appreciated! Happy October!


	8. Chapter 8

I’m sitting with Jon and Sansa in the gardens for a quiet lunch when Podrick comes running up to us. Ghost looks up at him suspiciously and places himself in front of Jon and Sansa. “My Lady-Lia,” he calls out in a gasp. When he reaches our table he’s panting and hanging onto the edge of the table as if his life depends on it. “Pod? Take a seat you look as if you’re about to pass out,” I say while offering him my chair. “No, thank you My Lady,” he says as he fervently shakes his head. “I take it you’re here for something?” I ask while I raise my eyebrows at him. He sucks in a few more breaths while nodding. “Yes, Lady Lia. Lord Tyrion- he is awake...and he's asking for you.” “He is?” I ask breathlessly. “Yes he has asked me to find you, Lord Varys, and Bronn.” I dust off my dress, so eager to see my uncle. I hadn't been allowed in the room yet, so I haven't seen him since the battle. “Then you best find them. I’ll go see my uncle right away. Thank you Podrick.” He bows and runs off in the other direction. “If you’ll excuse me,” I say to Jon and Sansa and I hurry off without even waiting for their response.  
“Uncle,” I cry when I see him lying in bed. I kneel by his side and look up at Pycelle, who is hovering nearby. “Is he alright?” “Lia, I want you to get this wretched man out of my sight,” Tyrion spits at the Maester. I bring my eyes up to meet the old mans, “what did you do to him?” “I did nothing but help him recover from his wounds,” Pycelle reverently says to me. I look at the poor wrapping of the wound and my uncle’s eyes are narrowed with hate. “Do you like your position, Grand Maester?” “What?” he asks me clearly unsettled by my tone. “I asked you a question,” I growl. “Yes I do like my position,” he hesitantly replies. “Well clearly you aren’t very good at it, old man,” I spit in his direction. “Tyrion is a Lannister of Casterly Rock. Uncle to the king and son of the hand of the king! I suggest you think, before abusing him once more. You may have powerful friends but I daresay one word from me and you’ll be tossed from the tallest tower of the keep!” The room is silent and he doesn’t seem to have a response for me. “Now get out!” I watch as he shuffles away and closes the door after leaving the room, practically fleeing. Perhaps I should make use of my contacts in Oldtown. If I can rid the city of Pycelle it would be a good start to loosening the other's hold on the city.  
“Uncle, who did this to you?” I question once everything has settled down. “Ser Mandon Moore struck me and Pod killed him to save my life.” I take his hand in mine and finally let tears fall down my cheeks. I can’t believe that a kingsguard would betray us in such a way. They're sworn to protect the King, to protect us. “I thought I would lose you, uncle. Please don’t scare me like that ever again.” His one uncovered eye focuses on my own bruised face. My face hasn’t healed properly, and the bruise and cuts are visible. “It seems I’m not the only one injured. What happened?” “A soldier got the best of me,” I admit softly. I’m so glad he’s awake now, I really need him all the time. He’s the only person here that I trust completely. “My weapons belt was gone and he overpowered me. He as going to rape me until Loras Tyrell killed him.” “Then we are very lucky my father arrived with his new allies when he did,” Tyrion gently says to me. “I will talk to grandfather about your new chambers,” I tell him in a firm tone. “But for now I must go. I’ll come see you soon, I promise. I love you, uncle.” “And I love you Lia. Thank you for visiting me, my dear. You are a light in this dark place.”  
When I arrive in the throne room, most people are already in their places. I take my place of high honor near the dais of the throne with Tommen next to me. I haven’t seen him much since he’s been in lessons so much lately. My grandfather is atop a purebred white horse waiting for Joffery to call him in. He’s been preparing for this since the battle, his big moment. “I Joffery of the House Baratheon, First of my Name, Rightful King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm,” he pronounces his titles loudly, “do hereby proclaim my grandfather, Tywin Lannister the savior of our city and the hand of the king.” A servant brings the pin; I’ve grown so accustomed seeing on Tyrion’s clothes to my grandfather. He bows lowly to Joffery after taking it in his fingers. “Thank you, your grace,” he says before riding out of the room. Joffery then awards Littlefinger for his services to the crown. I watch Littlefinger carefully. From what I understand, his spies are watching everybody. He may even have more then Varys. If I'm going to gain any control, he will simply have to be weakened.  
“Ser Loras Tyrell,” Joffery calls forward next. Loras kneels at Joffery’s feet and waits for his words. I see he has curly hair. “Your house has come to our aid. My cousin,” he gestures to me. “Told me you saved her life during the battle. The whole realm is in your debt, no one more then I. If your family would ask anything of me, ask it and it shall be yours,” Joffery offers. I’m surprised by his generosity but I assume Cersei told him exactly what to say. But when Loras offers up his sister for marriage I look up to Sansa in surprise. I can’t see her up with the other nobles, and no doubt Jon is with her. This would be wonderful for her; she’d be free of Joffery. The whole room begins to whisper when Cersei tells Joffery to set Sansa Stark aside. Joffery protests but Pycelle intervenes, and Joffery then proclaims that he will love Margaery Tyrell for the rest of his life. He will no longer be betrothed to Sansa. A little voice inside my head tells me she may be free but now she has less standing with the court. She's now only here because she's a hostage. If Robb Stark falls in battle, Sansa is the key to the north. Many nobles will be clambering to gain her hand. I won't let someone take Sansa, I'll need to get her away from court. That is the only way.  
I sit through the rest of the awards and recognition silently. Bronn is knighted for his actions at the Blackwater, which is well deserved for everything he’s done for Tyrion and I. I thought grandfather would give him something for saving us in the Eyrie. Perhaps I can reward him myself. Surely Bronn wouldn't turn down land in the Westerlands. Tyrion bought his loyalty, perhaps I could buy it too. There is no mention of Joffery cowering in the Red Keep while we fought outside of the walls. There is no mention of Tyrion setting up the plan and defense for the city with almost no help from the rest of the council. I don’t understand how they just phase over it? Without his hard work, we’d be dead. I intend on speaking with my grandfather about it as soon as I can. I know he’s going to be busy for a few more days as he settles into his role as Hand of the King. He hasn’t done it for twenty years now and it’ll take some time to get his affairs at Casterly Rock in order. I hope he’ll send me home to take over but I’m guessing he’ll put Kevan in charge for now, at least till the war is over. Though my servants back home write to me frequently, I could use them to find a reason for Kevan to return.  
After this session of court is over Tommen tugs on my hand. “Lia can we go riding now?” I look down at his hopeful expression, and I find that I cannot find it in my heart to say no. He’s been cooped up in the castle for so long now. I doubt he’s left since Myrcella did. “Let’s go ask your mother.” He practically pulls me up the stairs to where is mother is sitting. “Mother,” he calls out to her, his voice full of youth. She immediately turns away from the group she was speaking with, as if they don’t matter. To her they probably don't. “Yes, my love?” “Can Lia and I go riding? Please mother!” She hesitates before relenting. “Only if your cousin feels up to it, Tommen. She just fought in a battle, my sweet.” I shrug my shoulders; unable to turn him down. “I don’t mind Aunt Cersei.” “You can go but you must take some of your guards and a kingsguard,” she orders. I wrap my arm around his shoulders. “Of course we will. Shall we get you changed Tommen?” He eagerly nods and after receiving a kiss from his mother he pulls me to the stables where his horse waits.  
After both being dressed in proper riding attire, the horse masters saddle up the horses for our party. Tommen and myself are riding some of the finest horses in the stables. His is a young black mare and mine is a white destrier. Our guards and Ser Arys Oakheart will be accompanying us on other horses. We don’t ride very long as I’m still sore and tired and Tommen still is not the strongest rider. He certainly needs more practice. Tommen should be properly trained in swordplay. Grandfather needs to go over Cersei's head and allow it. Surely he has the power to now. After we return to the Red Keep, Tommen is swept away by his Septa for lessons.  
I make my way back to my chamber, feeling eager to relax. Maybe I'll visit Tyrion and have dinner with him. I know he gets lonely by himself, not that he'd ever admit it. I do have some letters to write, Myrcella has been waiting for a response for a long time now. When I open my door I am surprised to see Jon and Ghost waiting inside. “What are you doing here?” I question as I kick off my riding boots. “I’ve been looking for you all afternoon, where have you been?” I frown at his obvious frustration. “I took Tommen riding,” I answer coolly. “Why, is something wrong?” “I should’ve been with you,” he argues almost before I get my sentence out. “I was with a dozen Lannister guards and Ser Arys Oakheart. We were fine.” He lets out a long breath and runs his finger through his black curls. “After everything that happened during the battle, I don’t want to be away from your side for so long.” My heart is warmed by his words but my brain reminds me of another, more dangerous hurdle. “Now that my grandfather is back, we’ll have to be careful, Jon. If he ever found out about us, he’d kill you and disinherit me.” I stride forward into his arms, wanting nothing more then the comfort and love they bring me. “I don’t want that to happen.” “I don’t either,” he replies. Though I can hear his voice is tenser than before.  
“How’s your sister?” I ask quickly changing the subject. “She’s overjoyed that she is no longer betrothed to Joffery. But Lord Baelish approached her after the announcement and you’re right, I don’t trust him. He said he would take her back to her mother, because they were old friends.” My lips deepen into a frown. Sansa indeed does belong with her family but having her here is something that must be keeping my father alive, while I wish to do what is best for her I can’t risk letting the Stark’s hurt him anymore then they already have. “I’ll keep my eye on him during meetings. He’ll likely try to smuggle her out of the city via ship, I’d guess. Tell her never to trust him.” “I will,” Jon vows. The Littlefinger problem needs to be dealt with quickly, I tell myself. Perhaps the first person I should speak with about it is Varys. If anyone knows how to help, it would be him.  
Several nights later, I prepare for a dinner with the Tyrell family as well as Joffery and Cersei. I don’t know why Grandfather wishes me to attend, as he is not here with us. I thought I’d have dinner with Tyrion, it would’ve been much more fun. Several handmaidens assist me with my dress and hair. I’m dressed in a silk dress the color of the sea. It has an intricate floral design on the skirt. My hair is in a knot at the back of my head, much to the frustration of my aunt. She wishes I did my hair more in her style. I stride into the room, just as Joffery is apologizing, ‘I’m sorry we’re late. Small council meeting ran late,” he says offering up an excuse. I know he doesn’t actually attend these meetings but whatever; he must want to impress Margaery. “At what point does it become treason to waste the kings time,” Joffery jests. Margaery, Loras, and I all laugh politely.  
“That’s a lovely gown, my lady.” I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Joffery complimenting someone other then himself? “Don’t you agree mother?” “Yes,” she says and I see she already has a glass of wine in her hand. I'm usually surprised when she doesn't have wine. “It suits you perfectly.” Her dress is indeed beautiful. I’ve never seen such a style here in the capital. It has slits in the sides, just above the hips, which must be the style down south. “Though I imagine you’d be cold.” “The climate is more forgiving at home in Highgarden, your grace.” “Shall I have someone bring you a shall, my lady? Surely my cousin here has one you could use.” I notice everyone looking at me. “Of course I do. Lady Margaery anything you need, you only have to ask,” I reply with a nod and a kind smile. “That is very kind of you both but I shan’t need one. Luckily our Tyrell blood runs quite warm. Doesn’t it Loras?” “Yes,” he replies with a smile on his face. “Loras, look at how beautiful Lady Lia and her grace are dressed. The fabric and embroidery are gorgeous and your grace,” she inclines her head to my aunt. “The metalwork. I’ve never seen anything like it.” “I find a bit of armor quite useful when you become queen,” Cersei sweetly responds. I sit on her left side across from the Tyrell’s. “Perhaps even before you become queen.” I look down and I can feel the tension in the room, she’s going to make this awkward. I think we should be having a nice meal, the Tyrell's did save us. But Cersei already has a reason to dislike them, what a surprise.  
“Joffery tells me you stopped your carriage in Flea Bottom,” Cersei all but spits out. “Yes,” Margaery breathes out and I see her glance towards Joffery. “I paid a visit to an orphanage the High Septon told me about.” “Margaery does a great deal of work with the poor back in Highgarden,” Loras informs us proudly. “The lowest among us are no different from us, if you give them a chance.” I bite back a laugh at my aunt’s obvious displeased face. She hates the poor, everything about them. They’re only here to raise her up. “You best be careful in Flea Bottom, my lady. Several weeks ago we were caught in a mob, the king barely escaped with his life.” I resist the urge to retort, as Joffery started the riot by calling for people’s heads. Joffery glares at her across the table. “My mother is often dramatic. We were never in any danger. Facts have become muddled as she get’s older.” I remember that mob well. If they had they chance they would have raped Sansa and I, and then killed us if they could. I see Margaery and Loras exchange a look at the obvious tension between mother and son. It seems Joffery doesn’t want to listen to Cersei anymore. That's dangerous. I'd take Cersei a hundred times over Joffery.  
“Lady Lia, is it true that you are a patron of the Night’s Watch?” Margaery asks in excitement, quickly changing the subject. I gently set my wine glass down to answer, flattered that she knows. “Yes I am. I visited the Wall about a year or so ago and they are in dire need of assistance. I promised Lord Commander Mormont any help he needed I would give.” “That is very noble of you,” Loras offers up. “Thank you, Ser Loras. I send recruits up as often as I can. Though I’ve been set back by the battle with Stannis. I should find some men in the dungeons in the next couple of days,” I bow my head to Joffery. “With your leave of course, your grace.” He shrugs, completely uninterested in what we’re talking about. “Yes, yes,” he says impatiently. “Whatever you want Lia.” He's probably not even paying attention.  
The servants begin placing food in front of us; steamed vegetables, fresh bread, and a smoked pig. “Hunger turns any man into a beast. I’m glad House Tyrell has been able to help in this matter. I’m told hundreds of wagons arrive daily from the Reach. Wheat, barely, apples, we’ve had a blessed harvest this year. It is our duty to assist the capital in time of need.” I find myself wondering if I could befriend one of the Tyrell’s and perhaps ask them to send other food to the Wall. It’s a thought for later though. All of the Westerlands food is being stored far from the Riverlands border. Robb Stark is gaining ground and I won't let my people starve when winter comes. If he begins to harm my people, then I'll have to do something about it. “It seems Lady Margaery knows what she’s doing with these, uh.” He trails off momentarily as if he’s looking for the right words to say. “Charitable works.” “I’m sure she does,” Cersei breathes out so lowly that I know only I could hear her. She's actually being kind to me. I must be the lesser of two evils here.  
The rest of dinner is polite conversation between the five of us. Margaery and I carry on a long conversation about her work with the orphanage. She seems eager to allow me to help her, which I’m grateful for. Perhaps it’ll give me something to do while I’m in the capital. I doubt I’ll get to return to Casterly Rock till after the war. Even though I long to return home. I have so many things I could be doing there. Once dinner is over I leave in a hurry. I don’t wish to get sucked into anything else with my aunt.  
I return to my chamber eager to get away from politics. But it seems that I find more waiting for me. My grandfather is waiting in my chamber for me, seated behind my desk. “There you are,” he greets without looking up. I can see rolls of parchment on my desk in front of him. He must have put all mine aside so he could work. “Grandfather, I’m glad to see you.” “Yes, I am as well.” He awkwardly clears his throat and gestures to the ottoman by the balcony. I follow his lead and sit next to him. “How was your dinner?” “It was fine. The Tyrell’s seem very kind. We are very lucky you allied with them.” I look around the room, wondering where Jon is. I was expecting to find him waiting for me, not my grandfather. I hope they didn't run into each other, that would have been awkward. “I’m glad you think so. Someday it’ll be up to you to make hard calls like this. Allies are very important.” “I understand,” I reply with a nod of my head.  
“I’ve been speaking with Lady Olenna. Have you met her?” “I haven’t had the pleasure yet,” I tell him. I’ve heard much about the queen of thorns. A barbed tongue of the south from what I hear. “She is eager to meet you. In fact we spoke about you at length.” “At length?” I question in both surprise and nervousness. I hope he had good things to say. I wouldn't want to gain a reputation as a poor heir.  
“Lia,” he begins slowly as if he doubts himself, which my grandfather has never doubted himself about anything. That’s why he’s the best military commander in Westeros. I feel worries begin to buzz in the back of my mind. “I’ve made an agreement with Mace Tyrell to further our alliance.” “Grandfather?” “Lia we need this alliance to survive and that is why I've agreed to grant your hand in marriage to Ser Loras. I will announce it at court on the morrow.” My entire mouth dries up and I look at my hands. My vision is blurred as tears form in my eyes. I cannot believe this is happening. “Lia, I know you’re independent and I love that about you, I do. But this is your duty as a Lannister. I trust that you’ll do what needs to be done, just as I raised you. We must protect the family name.” He stands without another word and leaves my room, closing the door firmly behind him.  
I cry for longer then I ever have, possibly hours, I don’t know I lose track of time. My cries are now only gasps of breath. It’s the middle of the night and at this point everyone must be asleep but some guards. But I find that I can’t sit in my chamber anymore; it feels like the walls are closing in on me, suffocating me. I leap to my feet and wrench open the door. I don’t even notice that I’m still wearing the dress I wore to dinner, I never changed. There’s only one person in this castle that I can talk to about this, only one person that I want to talk to. I fly down the stairs ignoring the Lannister guard calling after me. I make it to the door I’m seeking the most in only a few moments. I close my fist and pound on the door as hard as I can, my desperation evident as the bangs echo through the corridor.  
“Who is banging on the door?” A female voice calls out in anger before the door opens before me. I recognize Shae, half clothed, standing in the opening. “Oh,” she breathes out. I don’t even care that a half naked prostitute is standing in front of me. I only want to talk to Tyrion. “Is my uncle with you?” I ask, my voice cracking with disuse. “Lia?” His voice calls from further in the room. “It’s the middle of the night, what are you doing here?” He walks into the torchlight and I see he’s clothed in only a robe. He looks at my puffy eyes and red face and his lips turn into a frown. “What has happened?” Shae looks around the corridor before ushering me inside and lighting some candles so the room is no longer pitch black. “I we-went t-t-to dinner with Joffery, Cersei, Margaery, and Ser Loras.” His name comes out in a sob, my future husband I think dimly. “Did something happen there? Was it my sister?” He asks, clearly unsurprised if it was Cersei. "What did she say to you?"  
“No, it was after dinner.” His gaze hardens and I see anger flash in his eyes. “Did Jon Snow do something to you? Because if he did I’ll show that boy what happens when you hurt a Lannister.” The thought of Jon makes me cry even harder. He’ll be so disappointed. What if he leaves? I can’t bear for us to part in such a way. “No, Grandfather was waiting for me when I got to my chamber. He told me that I’m to be married.” Shae and Tyrion share a concerned look with each other. “I’m sorry Lia,” Shae offers while Tyrion takes my trembling hand. “Whom did he promise you to?” “Ser Loras Tyrell,” I shakily reply. Disbelief crosses his scarred face. Everyone has heard the rumors of Renly Baratheon and Loras Tyrell, everyone knows that they were lovers. “I’m sorry, Lia. I’m so very sorry.” “Uncle, I don’t want to marry him,” I sob out. “I know you don’t,” he said as he tries to comfort me. “Jon is going to hate me uncle. I don’t want this.” He doesn’t seem to have any words for me so he reaches out and hugs me. My thoughts turn to my father, probably sitting in a cage somewhere. If he were here would he put a stop to this? Would he let me follow my heart, or would he doom me to a life of misery like grandfather is doing?  
I end up falling asleep in my Uncle’s chamber and am forced to hastily get ready the next morning. Nearly everyone is already gathered in the throne room and I bet I’m going to be late. I’m heartbroken that I don’t get to talk to Jon before it gets announced; he’s going to be so upset, as will Sansa. This certainly throws my plans into a halt. I tie my hair back in an elegant knot and dress in a purple gown with silver embroidery. I suppose if I’m getting engaged today, I should look nice. I take a few deep breaths before leaving my room. My life is going to change forever now. I bite my lip to keep my tears from forming again, but my throat and chest burn.  
When I enter the throne room I see that I was correct and most people are already gathered. Joffery is seated on the throne wearing a red velvet tunic inlaid with golden designs. I take my place by Tyrion in the front and he sends me a sympathetic smile. I don’t know what I’d do without him here; he’s my best friend, my closest family member. I can see Sansa up on the dais with the other ladies of the court. Her bright red hair makes her easy to spot. She catches my eye and smiles brightly, which I don’t have the heart to return, I merely sink into my despair, looking at my scarred hands.  
“Lords and Ladies,” Joffery begins once most people have entered. “I am pleased to announce that all the damage done to the city by Stannis has been repaired.” There is a round of applause through the hall. “My Lady,” he gestures to Margaery, “has been kind enough to draw my attention to the orphanages in our city.” I can see Margaery beaming from her place next to her grandmother. This must be everything she’s wanted, attention and being the future queen. “I ask all of you to set aside anything you can spare for the children of those who died defending our city.” There’s a murmur of approval through the hall. That will gain Joffery many supporters.  
“Now my grandfather has some announcements he wishes to make.” I watch as Joffery leans back on the throne and my grandfather climbs the stairs. “Lord and Ladies,” he greets. “I am pleased to announce that while Lord Baelish attends his own matters, my son Tyrion will take his place on the small council as Master of Coin.” Whispers go through the crowd before people offer congratulations to my uncle. I stand rigidly next to him, knowing what’s coming next.  
My grandfather impatiently clears his throat, and waits for everyone to quiet down. “I am also very pleased to announce a new arrangement between House Lannister and House Tyrell.” I look down at the stone covered ground, as I suddenly feel faint. This is it, there’s no going back now. I’ll never be able to get out of this. “I have agreed to grant my beautiful granddaughter Lia’s hand in marriage to Ser Loras Tyrell.” I feel Tyrion subtly nudge me and I force myself to look up. The people in front of me are clapping but I can’t hear them. My mouth has gone very dry and I’m very aware of the burning behind my eyes. I see my grandfather standing next to Loras, both looking at me expectantly. Somehow my feet move and I find myself next to them, placing my arm on Loras’. I try and look happy but I’m not sure if I can manage it. I’m signing my life away to an unhappy marriage, one that we can’t even learn to love each other, at least not in the way we could want. How can I learn to love him when I’m in love with Jon? How can he love me when he isn’t even interested in women? He may respect me, but this is purely made for an alliance.  
Slowly I drag my eyes up further and I see Sansa on the balcony. I knew she wanted to marry Loras, an idiot would know by the look on her face. She’s obviously crushed and she’s looking at us in betrayal, at me in betrayal. I don’t see Jon and I wonder if he’s even here? Did he hear the news and leave? Without even saying goodbye to me? But I know he would never leave Sansa, not when she relies on him for comfort. But now I’m just going to be the girl who broke his heart and married someone else.  
It seems like hours of people congratulating us on our upcoming marriage. People I don’t know or recognize give us advice on all sorts of things. Neither Loras nor I ever falter at keeping up or polite pleasantries. I keep my arm locked around his, but that’s the only contact we have, we never even speak to each other. It’s like we have an unspoken agreement to get though this without facing each other. Gradually the room empties and the last people ask questions about our wedding which neither of us knew about till yesterday then they leave.  
A few guards, Joffery, Margaery, and my grandfather are all that remain. “Oh Lia,” Margaery gushes from beside us. “Isn’t this wonderful? You and are to be sisters!” I blink a few times before finding the words to respond. “It is, thank you Lady Margaery, you are very kind.” She’s hanging on Joffery’s arm like she’s been there her whole life. She’ll learn what kind of person he is eventually and she’ll want to chop that arm off and hit him with it, I think to myself. “When will we marry Lord Tywin?” Loras asks my grandfather. “After his grace is wed to your sister, Ser Loras. I think that the people would like to see a royal wedding before anything else. They do seem to favor your sister for all her kind acts.” “They love her, grandfather,” Joffery cuts in. “Now I have things to attend to. You all know a king is very busy.” We all nod but he stops before Margaery. “Would you like me to escort you anywhere first my lady?” She giggles behind her hands and accepts. “That is most kind you grace. Thank you.” We watch as they disappear with a group of kingsguard behind them. They certainly look happy, she's a very good actress.  
“Could I be excused?” I ask, my voice so soft I can barely believe it’s mine. “Of course, my dear,” grandfather replies in a gentle tone. Does he understand what I’m feeling? Does he know that I want to return to my chamber to deal with this? Does he care? “Ser Loras I shall see you on the morrow I presume?” He shakes his curly head in reply and steps past me to allow me to leave.  
I make my way back to my chamber finally; looking around at the corridors as I go. I forget how beautiful the Red Keep is, with all of it’s terraces and art work. I’m so relieved when I reach my chamber. I don’t wish to eat dinner with anyone so I think I’m going to tell my handmaidens to bring some to me as well as a bath. After the day I just got through, I think I deserve it. When I unlock my door I find Sansa waiting for me. I feel myself sag at the sight of her, she’s going to want me to explain myself and all I want to do is forget. “What do you want Sansa?” I ask dejectedly. “Why?” “Why what,” I practically snarl at her. “Loras wanted to marry me!” She screeches. “No he didn’t.” “Yes he wanted to take me away from this Lannister hellhole!” I just shake my head and try to swallow my retort. “You should go Sansa,” I tell her after turning away. I don't have the energy for this. “No! I want to know why you would do this to me?! I trusted you.”  
The door opens and I can see Jon standing there and his eyes are locked on me. I immediately turn away from his gaze, not ready to face him, my eyes burning and the need to sob nearly breaks me. “Why are you yelling?” “Lia betrayed me, Jon. She took my one chance to get out of here,” she finishes in a much softer tone. I pour some wine into a glass, probably much more then I needed and I drink it all in one gulp. Cersei drinks for some reason; perhaps I should follow her lead. Tyrion drinks too. It must be a Lannister thing and its about time I start. “Perhaps we should let Lia explain before jumping to conclusions,” Jon offers. I hear Sansa plop down onto the ottoman behind me. The same ottoman I told Jon that I wanted to have sex with him on and the same one my grandfather destroyed my life. I pour more wine into my glass and turn around. “Maybe she doesn’t want to explain right now, and maybe she wants you both to get the hell out of her room.” They’re both staring at me in surprise and waiting apparently.  
I can tell Jon’s waiting for me to explain myself to him in particular. But it’s not like I can say much in front of Sansa. All I wanted was to be alone. “It wasn’t my decision,” I tell them bluntly. “My grandfather told me what to do and I do it.” I drink more of my wine before continuing. “It is alliance for House Lannister and I’m the future of the house. I do what my grandfather thinks is best.” “But, Margaery and Loras told me they would love me,” Sansa whispers. “They just wanted to get control of you Sansa. You’re Robb’s heir and if they get you they get the North. You should figure that out before trusting strangers,” I blurt at her, finally sick of her being naïve. Her face drains of color and I feel a twinge of guilt. “Is that why you’re friends with me?” I look at my empty wine jug and really wish I had more. “I’m your friend because you don’t deserve everything that’s happened to you because of my family and because your brother has saved my life.” “I’m going to go,” she gasps out and I can tell she’s going to cry.  
I groan when the door closes behind her. “You’re going to say things now aren’t you?” I ask over my shoulder to Jon. I want nothing more then to be alone and drink until I forget why I’m sad. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I didn’t have a chance,” I reply without looking back at him. “What is that supposed to mean?” “It means I only found out last night and I need some time to deal with all this,” I bite out. “You want me to leave?” “Yes,” I breathe out.  
“I don’t want to leave. I want to help you. I want to be with you.” My lips start to quiver and my silence doesn’t give him an answer. He gets up and I feel him just behind me. “Do you want me to leave now?” I can feel his hot breath on my ear and I shiver. I feel his hand sliding up the side of my body. He started at the curve of my hip and moves it up from there. When he reaches my arm I can’t take it anymore. I drop my glass onto the ground and our arms wrap around each other.  
His mouth covers mine and he’s kissing me with more passion then ever before. Our tongues meet as he opens my mouth with his. I move one of my hands up his chest and the other his wrapped around his head. “I’m sorry,” I whisper against his lips. He lifts me up in ease, his hands on my butt and my legs wrapped around his waist. He walks with me in his arms till my back hits the wall. I stroke Jon’s black curly hair as I look into his eyes. “I love you Jon. I’m so in love with you.” He falls still for a moment and our eyes search each other. His eyes are intense and the greyness is dark, like a summer storm. He kisses me gently; so soft it’s like a feather on my lips. “And I love you. Lia you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.” I return my lips to his wanting nothing more then to be with him completely. “What are we going to do now?”  
“Take off your clothes,” he replies in fervor while setting me back onto the ground. I tug on the buttons and laces that hold my dress in place. I giggle when I see him struggling to unbuckle his armor. I reach over to help him more effectively. “Pretend that didn’t happen,” he says to me with a blush. “In your dreams,” I retort. He reaches over and tugs me into his arms.  
“I’m an engaged woman we shouldn’t be doing this,” I tell him as his hands wander my body. “Do you want me to stop?” He asks as he pulls his lips away from my neck. “Gods no,” I gasp out and he starts to laugh. "Good." I press him back towards my bed and he pulls me with him. We land on the soft satin blanket that covers the top of my bed. “I love you,” Jon murmurs again to me as we try and position ourselves. “I love you too and I’m sorry about everything I said. I’ll apologize to Sansa tomorrow.” “Don’t be sorry. I see that you had no choice. We’ll get through this together.” I share his smile and repeat, “together,” just as he presses himself inside of me.  
A knock at the door causes me to stir in Jon’s arms. He makes a few incoherent noises and pulls me closer to him. “Lady Lia,” I recognize Ser Loras’ voice on the other side of the door. I shoot up in bed and push Jon out of bed. “Ow!” He groans. “Hide!” I harshly whisper to him. He hears the knocking at the door and hurries over to the balcony. I wrap a robe around myself and answer the door. “Yes?” “I didn’t mean to wake you, but my grandmother wishes to host you for brunch. Care for an escort?” “Oh, uh yes uh of course! Please allow me a moment to dress.” “Certainly,” he says with a dashing smile.  
I close the door just as Jon returns from the balcony. “What is it?” “I have to go to brunch with the Tyrell’s.” “I think you should stay.” “You know I can’t do that,” I say as I start to pull on one of my red dresses. “I’ll see you later,” I say pressing my lips to his. When I try to pull away he tugs me back to his lips. “I’ll think about you all day.” My heart is fluttering and I can feel my cheeks burning. “I’ll find you as soon as I’m done,” I tell him. My body is reacting to being so close to him and I force myself out of his arms. “If you keep touching me like that I’ll never leave.” He shoots me a wicked smile. “Maybe that is my plan.”  
I roll my eyes and make my way to the door. “Goodbye Jon.” He pouts at me but turns away to get dressed. Hopefully he'll be able to speak with Sansa while I'm gone. Once I exit the room Loras takes my arm. “Did you sleep well, Lady Lia?” In all reality I didn’t get much sleep last night and I can’t help but flush as I remember everything Jon and I did last night. “I did and you?” “I slept very well. Thank you for asking.” I can see his cheeks turning red and wonder what he could possibly be embarrassed about.  
Loras steers me into the gardens where his family awaits. There are guards patrolling the pathways between the hedges and the sun is just peeking through the clouds. I can tell it’s going to be a warm day by the feel of the air. A gazebo in front of us is decorated beautifully. There are flowers arranged around the pillars, most notably roses in every color. Mace, Margaery, and whom I can only assume is Lady Olenna are already seated at a table full of food and fancy dineware. Margaery is the first to get to her feet when we walk over. “Oh grandmother they’re here! Don’t they make a beautiful couple?” “Indeed they do. Now where is that tray of cheese?” She asks while looking around.  
“Grandmother,” Loras begins. “This is Lady Lia Lannister, my future bride.” I extend my hand out in greeting. “It is a pleasure to meet you all.” She takes my hand and motions for me to sit. “Do sit down and quit hovering about the table like a servant.” I raise my eyebrows as Mace scolds his mother. “Mother please she’s to be apart of our family.” Olenna rolls her eyes and I sink into a seat next to Loras. A servant wanders around us filling our glasses with juice and making sure our plates are full. The food is wonderful, the bread hot from the oven and the fruit freshly picked. As we eat we make polite small talk, mostly about our homes and Margery’s wedding to Joffery.  
It seems my uncle somehow got the Tyrell’s to agree to pay for half of the ceremony and reception. That will surely help with the debt problem he told me that the crown has. “And where will the two of you live? Highgarden or Casterly Rock?” Loras and I share a look of concern. I want to live at Casterly Rock. The people of the Westerlands are my priority and they always will be. But I suppose I should be polite. “I’m not entirely sure. I suppose this is why usually second children are the ones who are married off to another place,” I dryly point out. She barks out a laugh and continues pulling grapes off her plate. "Oh, I like you."  
“May I call you Lia?” Margery asks. “Of course,” I agree. “Lia, I have a gift for you.” I perk up slightly. “Oh you are too kind. You didn’t have to do anything like that.” She snaps her fingers and a few handmaidens walk up with garments in their hands. “I’ve had dresses made for you in a Highgarden style. I think they’ll suit you perfectly as you are going to be apart of our family.” I look them over and find that they are they most beautiful dresses I’ve ever seen. All of them look like dresses Margery has worn at court in many different colors. “Oh Margery, they’re so beautiful. Thank you so much.” She smiles as she accepts my gratitude. The rest of brunch is filled with awkward tension and veiled questions about the wedding and Olenna even asks about sex, which Loras admonished her for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this point on, cannon will be changed as will timing. This story will be a major AU if I can get all my ideas to work together! Thanks so much for reading. Every time I get an email about a comment or kudos it makes my day!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally wrote a new chapter! Yay! I hope everyone enjoys this, it took a strange turn but I like it. Kudos and comments are appreciated.

The past few weeks have been quiet here in the capital. Grandfather has cleaned up King’s Landing from the siege. All the walls have been repaired and Blackwater Bay has been reopened for trade. But from initial reports, the trade here in the city has been dropping. With little trade the city will have to raise taxes and that will only lead to more riots. I never wish to relive one of those. The war is beginning to effect everything in the city. I feel very ignored as I brought up the assassin who attacked me before the battle and my Grandfather waved me away. He didn’t listen when I told him that I was scared they would send another. The Royal Wedding is on everyone’s lips and Loras and I have been brushed under the rug, which I’m completely fine with. Margery and Joffery can have all the attention with their massive plans. Jon and Sansa are both mourning the loss of Winterfell. Our reports have stated that it was taken by the Ironborn and it is unknown what has happened to their younger brothers, Bran and Rickon. Though most believe the boys were killed. The Ironborn are the reason I have to rebuild the Lannister fleet and Theon Greyjoy’s crimes have gotten my special attention. He betrayed the family that raised him and possibly murdered two innocent children. The moment I get everything settled I’ll let Jon take anything he needs to hunt Theon down. He’s a murderer and deserves to be treated as such.

“A letter, My Lady,” my maid calls out from behind me. “Who is it from?” “It’s from home, My Lady.” She places it on the top of the pile of correspondence that is on the corner of my desk. “Your friends in the city also wanted me to tell you that they followed Varys’ spies.” Now that interests me and I turn away from my desk. “What did they discover?” “He’s been sending many letters to Essos. So, my brother took one for you.” “Now that’s good news,” I muse as she takes a seat in a chair across from me. “The Spider has been corresponding with several contacts, notably Ilyrio Mopatis. He’s the man who supported the Targaryen restoration.” “The girl with dragons?” I ask skeptically. “He’s the one who married her to a Dothraki horse lord and gave her the dragons eggs, My Lady.” “So, Varys supports the Targaryen restoration too then. I suppose that makes sense,” I muse. “How so, My Lady?” “Varys betrayed King Aerys and supported Robert. Now he’s betrayed Robert and Joffery for the Targaryen’s. I could use that. Thank you Minisa. Tell your brother to keep a low profile for a while, just in case.” “I’ll let him know. Thank you, My Lady. You saved us when Cersei would do nothing.” “She cares for nobody. I care for anyone who helps me so thank you.” She bows her head and leaves with a smile. I’m so glad I was able to poach her from Cersei. All it took was sending a Maester to their home to help cure her brother. 

I crack the seal on the letter from home. I recognize the handwriting of my oldest friend, Jonah. He was a servant in the castle for as long as I can remember. “Seven hells,” I curse as I read the contents. My people have discovered a new mine far beneath the earth on the coast a bit north of Casterly Rock. It doesn’t have gold in it like I would have thought, but something even more valuable, diamonds. I quickly write a response, telling Jonah to recruit miners he trusts explicitly. I can’t let anyone get word of the discovery. These diamonds will be what allows me to begin moving my other pieces on the board. I look at the map on my desk and I feel a twinge of guilt. I love my Grandfather deeply, he raised me when he didn’t have to. But I cannot stand by while he neglects the Westerlands and forces them to fight a war that is burning our farms. Those people rely on House Lannister to protect them and with Robb Stark burning their land and possibly killing their men; I won’t allow it, not when I can stop it. So, I’ve gotten nine of the ten of the vassals to agree to follow me instead of my Grandfather. I only have one more man to convince and it will be challenging since I don’t actually know where he is. But that is a problem for another day, I remind myself. 

I’ve used this time to poach spies from both Cersei and Littlefinger. I need to know everything they’re doing because they are my biggest threats now that I can handle Varys. The information in the letter I had intercepted is exceptionally incriminating. Though I suppose he trusted his ‘little birds’ to deliver it safely. It is quite unfortunate that he decided to send this letter when I had people watching him. Littlefinger will be tricky; he’s so clever. Cersei would kill me if she knew what I was plotting, but I can handle her. I glance around the room and see that the sun is already beginning to set. I haven’t left my chamber at all today, I’d been so busy. I wonder how the day at court was? I know there was the first small council meeting earlier. I suppose Varys will inform me when I confront him. I make a copy of the letter and store the real one under a loose floorboard beneath my bed. That ought to be safe for now. I pick up my heavy skirts and make my way towards the gardens. 

I find him near one of the gazebos. He’s chatting with Olenna Tyrell which could be dangerous. I need the Tyrell’s to remain on my side; though I suppose I’m marrying one of them and that is the best alliance you can have. “Lady Olenna,” I greet respectfully. “Lord Varys.” “Lady Lia, you look divine,” Varys hails in return. “Thank you.” “Yes, you are very beautiful,” Olenna agrees. “A fine fit for my grandson. Though I do believe you may be missing something that he enjoys.” A resist laughing at her obviousness. Normally someone would try and conceal Loras’ nighttime activities. She’s not one for hiding though. “Lady Olenna, might I take Lord Varys for a moment?” I ask politely. “That would be fine. He was beginning to bore me anyway.” With those words she sets off towards the castle. 

“I so enjoy her company,” Varys exclaims. “She has quite a way with words,” I agree. “You must have urgent business with me, My Lady; to seek me out when I know you’ve been working in your chamber.” Ah, so he’s been watching me too. I suppose that isn’t too surprising, though I should be more careful while I remain in the capital. Varys is a dangerous enemy to have. “It is, Lord Varys. You see, I’ve been working a lot these past few weeks. Preparing for the inevitable I suppose.” “And what could I possibly assist you with?” “I must say, gaining spies who are good enough to go around unnoticed has been the hardest part,” I tell him nonchalantly. “But I have some very good ones. Ones who were able to follow your little birds to the harbor.” I see his bald head pale considerably. “And they took a very interesting letter from a ship captain, gold loosens the tightest lips,” I explain cheerfully. I take the letter out of the folds of my dress. “Do I need to read it aloud, or do I have your attention?” Varys glances around the garden. “You have my upmost attention, Lady Lia.” “You could be beheaded for this, am I correct?” “You know you are,” Varys replies coolly. “Now, I assume neither of us want that to happen.” “Oh? What do you want then?” “I merely wanted you out of my way. I’ll inform you if I need assistance with anything, which I know you’ll be happy to give.” “I daresay you are correct once again. You are a formidable woman, Lady Lia. I’m quite intrigued to see what you do next.” “I’m sure you are. Thank you for your time Lord Varys. You may continue your duties as normal, but know that anything you dig up on me, cannot be worse than supporting the Targaryen Restoration. I do think my cousin would place your head on a spike outside the city walls. Don’t you think?” He nods silently. “I’m so glad we were able to speak. Have a pleasant evening, Lord Varys.” I stride out of the gardens, suddenly feeling very strong.

 

 

 

“Hello Uncle,” I call out to him as I see his small stature exiting a corridor. “Dearest niece,” he replies almost as cheerfully. “I have missed your beautiful face and kindness. Where have you been hiding?” “I have something I need to tell you, Uncle,” I tell him gravely. His happy expression quickly drops off. “I suppose we should return to my chamber then. Come.” Once secure in his chamber he pours himself wine and sinks onto a cushioned chair. “Please tell me you are not with child.” “Uncle!” I shout, feeling very embarrassed. “I’m not, no. By the seven.” “Thank the gods,” he replies. “I would have had a difficult time explaining that to your father.” His eyes return to me. “You are having sex with him?” “Uncle,” I mutter and I know my face must be as red as my dress. “I just want you to be careful, Lia. I told you before, that it doesn’t bother me. Jon Snow is a good young man, one who has protected you many times. He loves you.” “And I love him,” I tell him softly. “You are to be married.” “I know.” 

“What did you wish to tell me?” I take a deep breath. Tyrion is the first person I’m going to tell of my plans. “I’m taking the Westerlands from Grandfather.” Tyrion drops his golden glass. It clangs onto the floor and rolls under the table. “You what?” “I’ve been going behind his back and I’ve gotten nine of our ten bannermen to swear oaths of loyalty to me.” “Lia…why?” I see a mixture of surprise and disappointment on his face. “For the past year, I’ve received hundreds of ravens from home. All of them asking for help. The war is hurting our people.” My voice gets stronger as I explain to him. “Our fields are being burned, our towns sacked. Grandfather has done nothing to help them. He sits in his tower here in King’s Landing and cares only for what happens here. I will not have it! Those people rely on House Lannister to protect them and that is what I’m going to do,” I finish in a strong and firm voice. “…That is admirable,” Tyrion finally states. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Lia. The last person to cross my father ended up having their entire house wiped from existence.” “House Reyne did not have the allies I do. And I am not playing for a stupid throne. I’m playing to win safety for my people. Joffery and my Grandfather do not provide that.” “How long have you been considering this?” “Since Grandfather decided to force me into a marriage with a man who is only attracted to men.” “You’ve made a lot of progress in three and a half weeks.” “I’m very convincing,” I answer wryly. “Why tell me?” “Because you’re my family and you always will be. Uncle Tyrion, I love you and I want you to join me in the West.” “You want the Imp?” “You saved the city during the Battle of the Blackwater, everybody else may ignore that fact. But I was there. I heard your speech, saw you lead us outside the gates. You cared for me more than anyone else did when I was a child. Of course, I want you to come with me.” “How could I stay here with my despicable nephew, sister, and father who has always hated me?” I hug him tightly. “Thank you for believing in my Uncle.” “I’ll always believe in you. Now, tell me everything you’ve done.” 

Once I explained what I have laid out he hums. “That is all very good work. And the diamonds? A gift from all the seven.” “I know,” I agree. “I never could have guessed that would happened.” “So, you need the Mountain. That may be tough.” “He’s the only bannermen I do not have. I would have preferred the Hound but he fled the city.” “Do you know where the Mountain is?” “I have a general idea.” “So, you’ll leave my father with only the Tyrell army, they may be able to match you.” “You forget that I am to marry House Tyrell’s heir,” I state calmly. “Even if my succeeding breaks the engagement, I have a plan to propose to Lady Olenna.” “The Queen of Thorns? You are playing for a win,” he teases. “I assume you’ll be conveniently taking Sansa Stark home with you when you leave.” “You are so smart,” I respond and his smile widens. “When I leave to search for the Mountain I need you to begin listening to the common folk while I’m gone. Help them in any way you can.” “I will,” Tyrion vows. “I’ll enjoy that much more then Master of Coin work- Oh, do give Sansa condolences on the death of her Grandfather, Hoster Tulley. We just received word.” “That’s too bad. He was old was he not?” “Yes, I believe so.” “I’ll let her know of your sympathy.” “Do I have your permission to recruit Bronn, my dearest niece?” “Of course, you do. I think we owe Bronn a sizeable reward and I’m wealthier than ever.” “He’ll love that.” “I have no doubts,” I reply with a giggle. Bronn often states how he wishes to have a castle of his own. I think I could arrange for him to become a new member of my bannermen. “What of Shae?” “Sansa trusts her and you are, well I don’t really know what you’re doing beyond sex. But she is welcome to join.” “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you talking of sex. It is unsettling.” I raise my eyebrows. “My Septa has been teaching me about sex since I was eleven.” “This is different,” Tyrion defends. “Speaking of sex,” I tease him, using all my bravado to say this next sentence. “I do believe Jon is waiting for me in my chamber. Have a good evening, Uncle.” 

Jon does await me in my chambers. His smile widens when I enter. “Where have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in days.” “I’ve been very busy,” I answer. “You know I’m an engaged woman.” He chuckles and his long strides reach me in seconds. His lips find the skin beneath my ear. “That you may be. But, I missed you.” “I missed you too,” I reply honestly. “We’re going into the city tomorrow,” I inform him. “What for?” “I need to check on the progress of things as well as send some craftsmen to the West.” “Sounds exciting.” “I had to turn down lunch with Sansa and the Tyrell women for it, so yes.” “Speaking of Sansa,” he grimly begins. “Baelish is quite insistent with her. I fear he may convince her to leave with him. He must be better with words then anyone here.” “He won’t have time to convince her. In two days’, time, I’m going to be called to Casterly Rock on urgent business.” “What? How do you know that?” “Because I’ve arranged for it,” I explain teasingly. “We’re leaving King’s Landing.” “Really?” “For good.” “Lia, what is this about?” “I need to find the Mountain,” I explain. “No way,” Jon instantly replies. “The Mountain is where the fighting is thickest in the Riverlands. It’ll be too dangerous.” “I need the Mountain and I’m not asking for your permission.” His frown deepens and I can see worry lines around his eyes. “I’m going with you.” “Yes, you are,” I agree. “Along with others. I’m not stupid; I know we’ll be marching into war.” “Are you going to tell me why?” I shake my head and smile up at him. “Jon?” “Yes?” “Take me to bed.” “Anything for you, My Lady,” he replies with a grin.

Once I’ve returned from the city, I’m in a very good mood. I was able to send many craftsmen west and the ships I ordered are being sent there as we speak. Things are beginning to fall into place. My letters to Myrcella, Princes Doran and Oberyn are already flying south. I know that once I have the Mountain I can offer him to Dorne in exchange for an alliance. They have no love for Lannister’s, but with Myrcella there; I know she’s warming their hearts. That leaves only Robb Stark as my greatest adversary. He’s the one burning my land and killing my men. He no longer holds my father captive but I still have his sister. I will be glad to exchange her for peace. He can fight on against Joffery if he wishes, but I want the West to be free. The last person I need to speak with in the capital is Olenna Tyrell. I’m a little frightened but I muster up all my courage and knock on her door. 

“Lady Lia. It’s a little late for lunch,” she jabs, rudely pointing out I missed her event. “I apologize for my absence today, Lady Olenna,” I begin reverently. “But I had business in the city that couldn’t wait.” “My grandson informs me that he has not seen you much.” “I’ve been very busy.” “Doing what exactly? Dear girl, I was in your shoes once. Nearly every person in this stinking city bores me. But not you; no, you fascinate me.” I take a seat next to her on a veranda. “What do you think of this war, Lady Olenna?” “I think it’s stupid; but most things men do are stupid,” she answers after she drinks some wine. “What do you think of King Joffery?” “Sansa Stark had much to say of my granddaughters’ future husband today. Though from what I heard it was to be expected. Bad breeding.” Bad breeding? There was nothing wrong with King Robert, besides his laziness and whoring; and Cersei maybe mean but she is nothing compared to her son. I shake off her comment. “What kind of wife will you be to my grandson?” “What kind of husband will he be when I’m the one in his bed instead of a man?” I coolly retort. She chuckles and offers me a glass of her wine which I accept. “You are good,” she laughs. “I’ve had people following you. I wondered what kept you shut away in you chamber. I thought maybe you had a lover,” she explains and my heart sails to my throat and I think about Jon. She could have him killed if she knew. “But no, you are doing something far more intriguing than I ever could have imagined.” “House Tyrell is the second richest family in the country,” I state plainly. “House Lannister is of course, the first. But I fear you are making alliances with the wrong Lannister.” “I believe you are right,” she agrees, her eyes hovering over my face. “The New House Lannister is much better.” She shakes my hand. “I’m so happy that you are the leader of your house.” “And not my fool son,” she finishes for me. “I love the boy but by the seven…he’s useless.” “While you remain in the city, beware of my aunt. She already detests the lot of you. And Sansa speaks the truth of my cousin. Tell Margery to watch herself.” “I will not let my granddaughter get hurt,” she informs me calmly. “Have a good evening Lady Lia. You’ve certainly made mine.” 

I enter Grandfather’s study, hoping to have one last decent moment with him. Unfortunately, he’s not here. I turn to leave but an unopened letter on his desk catches my eye. That sigil comes from the North, a house that I’ll need to look up to remember. It may be Bolton, but I could be wrong. Their sigils often get mixed up in my head. I hesitate for a moment before stealing it off his desk. I’m already betraying his trust, so what’s one more thing. I dare not open it here, lest I be discovered and I quickly return to my chambers. I crack the seal and read the contents of the letter, hoping for information of my father’s whereabouts. Instead, I find the key to winning the game. The contents of this letter are all I need to gain Robb Stark’s trust. I knew having Sansa wouldn’t be enough, but this; this is exactly what I needed.

 

 

 

 

“You need to return to Casterly Rock and assess the damage of this fire,” Grandfather informs me as he stares at the letter I had made. “When you find who set the fire, hang them,” he spits. “Is everyone alright?” I ask, feigning sympathy for the fake victims. “It says that some servants perished in the blaze; hopefully the traitor among them.” “I will write to you once everything is sorted away, Grandfather.” “Be safe, Lia.” I hover in the doorway, watching him work. “I wish to bring Sansa Stark,” I state calmly. “The Stark girl is our hostage.” “She needs a break from King’s Landing and she’s never seen the West. Considering what Joffery has done to her, she deserves it.” He falls silent and I see his fingers moving on his desk. “Alright, I trust you with this. The girl may be a Stark, but she doesn’t deserve the abuse she has suffered.” “Thank you, Grandfather.” He nods and looks back to his letters. “I love you,” I tell him and my heart is breaking. Soon he’ll receive the raven of my betrayal and I’ll never be his beloved granddaughter again. “I love you too, Lia. Have a safe journey.” “And you,” I reply softly. 

Jon and I enter Sansa’s room together. “What do you two look so happy about?” She questions as she looks up from her sewing. “I have a question for you,” I explain lightly. “Yes?” “How would you like to leave the capital tomorrow?” “Are you serious?” “Very.” She bursts into tears. “That is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever told me.” She leaps into my arms and I feel her joyful tears on my shoulder. “Pack your things,” I inform her and then I lower my voice. “We will not be returning.” She then hugs her brother. “I’ll begin right away. Thank you, Lia.” She ushers us out of the door and I think I hear her scream into a pillow. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sansa so happy,” Jon muses. “Glad I could be of service,” I jest earning a laugh from him. “Are you going to tell me what your plan is?” “Do you trust me?” I ask, looking into his dark eyes. “Of course, I do.” “I can’t tell you yet. It has to remain a secret for everyone’s saftey.” “Alright,” he lets the matter drop. “Then I will leave you to pack.” He kisses me tenderly, the kind that makes me tingle all over and makes my head spin. “Goodnight, my love.” “Sleep well, my knight,” I reply and lock the door behind him. 

Joffery and his kingsguard have already departed for the hunting trip but the rest of the royal court gathers to bid us farewell. Though my grandfather is not present, he must be in the tower. Margaery kisses my cheek and hugs me tightly. “When you return we must begin preparations for your wedding!” “That sounds lovely!” I look over Tommen’s shoulder as he hugs me tightly. “Lady Sansa, are you sure you wish to leave the capital?” Baelish questions, looking upon her in concern. “Yes, I’m very excited to see the West. Goodbye Lord Baelish.” I can see Baelish’s confusion and that makes everything about this better. “Lady Lia,” Loras inclines his head to me and I feel Jon tense beside me. “I’ll be eagerly awaiting our reunion.” A few people make an aw sound around us. Loras kisses my hand and I know Jon must be so jealous, though for no reason as Loras is just putting on a show for the court. “May the seven not keep us apart for long,” I reply, earning more cooing sounds from the crowd. “Since you two are so in love,” Olenna cuts in. “Why not simply bring my grandson with you?” “I-uh. I mean if he wanted to uh well-” “Grandmother, you know I must stay for Margaery’s wedding planning,” Loras smoothly picks up my fumbling. “Then I suppose you must part,” Olenna finally agrees, though I see her eyes twinkling. She’s certainly having her fun. My Uncle pulls me to the side. “Are you sure you want to do this?” “No,” I reply honestly. “But I have to.” “You’re a brave young woman, Lia.” “Thank you, Uncle.” “Bronn and I will follow you in two days, so that I may stay at the Rock while you find the Mountain. Travel safe, my dear.” I lean down to hug him and glance around the capital before leaving.

 

 

 

The Gold Road is secure and it only takes us a couple of days to reach Casterly Rock. I’m so happy to see the castle that I lead the party home. “It’s incredible,” Jon notes as we ride next to each other. “It’s home,” I reply happily. “Lia,” Kevan greets as soon as we enter the gates. “What are you doing here?” “I have a letter from Grandfather; he needs you in King’s Landing urgently. He sent me here so you could go to him,” I lie easily. “Of course, I will go right away.” Kevan is always predictable and has and always will remain in Grandfather’s shadow. I watch him take some guards and ride away within the hour. That leaves me free to finally take control of the castle with no resistance as the staff had already been informed.

Once I’ve had everyone placed and the Great Hall cleared, I turn and see only Jon and Sansa remain, with Ghost of course. “Are you going to tell us what’s going on yet?” Jon asks, looking at me expectantly. “I have seized control of the Westerlands and deposed my Grandfather,” I inform them calmly. Jon’s jaw drops open and Sansa looks at him then at me. “A raven is already flying for King’s Landing,” I continue. “With an official withdrawal from Joffery’s rule. The West is now an independent state.” “That’s what you’ve been doing?” Jon questions. “Yes.” “It took you about two weeks to take over an entire region?” “Yes.” “Why?” Sansa asks softly. “Because Joffery and my Grandfather we’re neglecting the people of the west.” “You’re a good leader,” Jon tells me with a smile. “Olenna Tyrell knows what has happened, as does Tyrion and Lord Varys. Tyrion will be here tomorrow to watch over the castle and Sansa,” I nod to her. “While you and I seek out the Mountain. He’s the only bannermen I have yet to speak with.” “Why didn’t Lord Varys tell your Grandfather, or the King?” “I’m blackmailing him of course,” I reply with a wave of my hand. “I’ve rebuilt the Lannister fleet and taken control of our army.” “Will we be attacked?” Jon asks me. “Stannis would be a fool to attack by land or sea after the beating he took at Blackwater Bay, he simply doesn’t have the men. I’ve gained Olenna Tyrell as an ally and I’m still to marry Ser Loras,” I continue to explain, watching Jon wince when I say that. “Dorne will be pacified when I invite them to take care of the Mountain. Though I will need to use him for a short time. With the Tyrell’s on my side as well as my control of the West, Joffery has no army to attack us with.” I glance up at them awkwardly. “That leaves our only threat as your brother, Robb.” The pair of them share an awkward look. “You’re not going to attack him, are you?” I’m going to be a little honest with them, but the letter pressed against my chest needs to remain a secret. That is the only way I can ensure Robb Stark’s cooperation and not another soul must know, not even Uncle Tyrion. “If he continues to attack my towns and harm my land and people; then yes Sansa. I will be forced to take action.” “My brother is a good person,” Sansa blurts and grabs Jon’s arm. “Tell her Jon.” “She knows Robb’s a good person,” Jon explains to her. “Lia, if you sent a raven to Robb and tell him what’s happened, I know he’d stop attacking the West.” “I’ll worry about that when the time comes,” I lightly inform them, shutting down their arguments. “Take Lady Sansa to a chamber that overlooks the sea,” I order one of the servants who entered the hall. “Yes, My Lady.” “Sansa, I hope Jon and I will return in a few days. If you need anything ask any of the servants, and my Uncle will be here tomorrow. I’m sorry we have to leave right away but you understand right?” She nods. “I do, thank you for saving me from the capital. I’ll forever be in your debt.” “Don’t concern yourself with it,” I tell her softly. “Ghost is staying here with you,” Jon tells her. “He’ll obey your every command. I’ll miss you sister.” “I’ll miss you too Jon. Thank you for being with me.” “I love you Sansa,” Jon tells her. “I love you too. I’m sorry for the nasty things I used to say.” “It’s already forgotten.” She hugs him tightly and I see his arms tighten around her back.

“Are you ready?” I ask Jon softly once the hall had fallen silent once more. “I love you, Lia. You are the most amazing woman in the world.” “I love you too, Jon. I’m sorry that I must remain promised to another. I haven’t thought of a way out of it yet.” “I understand your duty, Lia. I don’t like it, but I understand.” “Ser Loras is the only thing keeping Joffery and my Grandfather from using the Tyrell army to attack us.” “You might need to come to a new agreement,” Jon wryly points out before he kisses me. “I agree. But for now, we must set out. I’ve arranged for eight men to travel with us,” I explain quickly. “And from the military reports I’ve been reading back in King’s Landing, the Mountain should be camped around Wayfarer’s Rest.” “Then we should get moving. By the time we get there, your raven will have reached King’s Landing. Are you worried?” “I betrayed my Grandfather, the very man who raised me. Yes, I’m worried.” “I’ll protect you.” “I know you will,” I kiss his lips lightly. “Here and on the road.”

The group we’re travelling with is a lively bunch. All of them are ecstatic that they’re escorting their new lady. I think it’s very flattering and I’m glad they speak normally around me. Normally men tiptoe around me like I’m the Maiden. Now, I’ve heard more about whorehouses then most. Jon gets along well with all of them and trusts each of them to keep watch at night while the rest of us sleep. We make camp just east of Deep Den for the night. Our packs are laid out and horses tied up. After all these days riding I find that my back and legs are sore. “Thank the gods,” I grumble when I lie back on the ground. “Wish we could give you a roof and a proper feather bed,” one of my soldiers tells me. “I’ve slept in the woods before. Don’t worry about it. Just wake me when it’s my turn for watch.” I feel Jon sit beside me. “Are you not hungry?” “No, just tired.” “Lia, you should eat something.” “Jon, I’m fine. Go join the others for dinner.” I hear him make a huff and then leaves crunching under his boots as he walks away. I know I shouldn’t have snapped at him, but I’m tired and all I want is to rest.

The following morning, I stretch before starting the fire. My back pops in a few places and I secure my green cloak around my neck. Everyone else is asleep still as I had last watch. The sun isn’t quite up yet, it’s probably just before dawn. I lace up my boots and pet my horse, whispering nice things to her. My stomach begins to grumble and I know I desperately need to eat something since I skipped supper. I kneel down next to Jon and pick up my bow. I brush aside some of his black curls. He looks so handsome, even when he’s sleeping. “I’m going hunting, I’ll be back,” I tell him softly. He shifts and I leave his side. I finger the arrows in my quiver before setting off north. I should be able to acquire a hare or two for us to eat before everyone even wakes up. It will be a nice surprise for them. My eyes settle on a tall tree and I decide to climb up its thick branches to gain a better perspective. I’ll be able to see animals from above and they will be less likely to hear me. 

I successfully kill four hares from my place in the trees. That was better than I had hoped, now all of us will be able to eat a decent amount. We will have a good meal for breakfast. I remove my arrows from their bodies and hang them over my shoulder. Benjen Stark taught me how to clean a kill and I’m eager to prove that his lessons weren’t forgotten. As I begin my walk back to camp I hear voices yelling. I break into a sprint and crash through the foliage, the hares dropping out of my arms. A branch catches my cheek and I know it cut through my skin by the burning it leaves behind. As I draw closer to the shouts I am able to make out what is being said. “Lia!” “Lady Lia!” Many voices are calling out my name. “I’m here!” I shout back, glancing around the trees. I instinctively hit the ground when I hear the familiar thrum of a bow. An arrow strikes a tree behind me. I stare at it in confusion. Why would my men shoot at me? I hear footsteps approaching and I haul myself to my feet. I have an arrow notched and I swivel around, aiming for whomever appears. I know that my men must be close as I heard them yelling for me. I hesitate for a moment. If I scream I’ll draw everyone’s attention. But considering the arrow, someone already knows where I am. “JON! HELP!” The first figure appears and I see he is a large man who looks like a soldier with a scruffy brown beard and he’s wearing a yellow cloak. The very way he looks at me, makes me scream again. “JON! JON!” “Hey boys, got a girl over here!” “Take a step forward and die,” I threaten, my aim centered on him. He laughs and I see him looking at me like a piece of meat. “I don’t think so,” he says lightly and his right foot moves closer to me. I release my arrow and watch it sink into his shoulder. He stumbles backwards and falls into the dirt. 

I turn back around and run as fast as I can. I hear the snaps of branches behind me and I know I’m being chased. I duck under branches but many others hit me in the face. Someone collides with me and I hit the ground hard. All the breath is knocked from my chest. I struggle with the other person and see that he’s a young man, probably close to my age. He has curly dark blonde hair and I see that he has no armor. “Get off,” I groan and with all my strength I kick him off me. “I’m sorry miss,” he apologizes. “I don’t mean to hurt you. But you have to come with me.” “No, you-” My sentence abruptly ends when he swings a rock at my head.

 

 

 

 

I wake and I’m slumped against someone. Beneath me is a horse and I can feel that we’re moving. But my vision is cut off by a bag over my head. My breathing begins to quicken in panic. I’m being taken by someone and I don’t even know who it is. My hands are bound by rope; I can feel it chafing against the skin on my wrists. I begin to struggle and the person in front of stills. “The girl is awake.” I begin to panic more and I reach for the bag. “No, no, no. That has to stay on.” “What do you want with me?” I question, my voice shaky. “Lia?” Jon’s voice cuts through the air. “Jon?” The relief I feel is instantaneous. At least we’re together so we can face whatever comes next. 

“We’re here,” another voice says. Someone grabs me by the waist and lifts me off the horse. I feel hard rock under my knees. My hood is removed and I find myself looking at about thirty men in shabby clothes and mismatched armor. “Well,” a voice just behind me calls out. “It seems we captured a Lannister.” The way my name is said causes me to freeze. When the person strides into my line of sight I recognize him as Lord Beric Dondarrion. I had seen him at court many times before the war, but I thought he’d been killed. “Lady Lia Lannister,” he greets me. I spy Thoros of Myr behind him. “Lord Beric,” I greet him coolly, training my voice to sound as calm as I can. “I’d say it’s a pleasure, but that would be a lie.” Thoros barks out a laugh. “She got you Beric.” “I’d like you to release my companions and I, so we could be on our way.” “Sorry little lady,” one unfamiliar man barks. “We’ve been fighting Lannister’s for too long to give a prize like you up.” I glance around and see a young girl and teenage boy watching near the fire. As well as a tied-up Sandor Clegane. “I’ve been looking for you, Clegane,” I call out. He meets my gaze. “They sent you to bring me back to King’s Landing? Dumb fucking cunts.” “No, I was seeking you out for other reasons.” “Bit tied up,” he wryly replies. “I’m being convicted of crimes for serving your family,” he explains. “Bet they don’t fucking kill you.” I know fear must shine in my eyes. Is this really how it will end? Killed by deserters in a cave? “Is that why you took me? To kill me?” Thoros and Beric look at one another. “We should take her head,” a voice rings out. “Send it to her Grandfather.” “We will offer her a trial, same as the Hound,” Beric clarifies. “For what crimes are you trying me for?” I demand, trying to squash my fear with anger. “The only battle I’ve ever fought in was Blackwater Bay against Stannis because he was trying to sack the city,” I snap at them. “Are you going to accuse me of the things my Grandfather has done? Cousin? Father? If the answer is yes to any of them then shall I question you on the sins your families have committed?” Everyone falls silent and I know my words aere hitting them like a whip. 

“I’m trying to end the war. Can you fools understand that?” “How do you mean?” Thoros questions, stepping closer so I can see his red cloak. “I’ve taken control of the Westerlands,” I shortly reply. “The Lannister army is entirely loyal to me.” Whispers erupt from everyone gathered. “Why would you betray your family?” “Because they were doing nothing while my people were being attacked, their homes burned, and their men killed,” I spit at them. “I will not stand by while it happens! Not anymore!” “So, what? You end the war with a snap of your fingers?” Someone jokes and everyone laughs. “Obviously not, you dumbass. Do you think I was wandering the forest for fun?” “She has a point,” Thoros agrees. “A pretty girl like her knows better than that. Why were you out here then?” “I was looking for the Mountain,” I answer honestly. “The Mountain has committed more crimes then anyone in this country.” “He’s also commanding my army and is the only member of my bannermen I have not gotten an oath of loyalty from.” “What do you intend to do with your-independence?” “I wish make allies with other houses and end this stupid war. Now, as you see I am trying to help everyone in this thankless country, so let me go!”   
“Calm down, My Lady,” Beric tells me as if I’m a child. “You kidnapped me on my own land,” I spit. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do!” “So, you’re still a Lannister?” Thoros questions, sounding very amused. “Of course, I am.” “But you aren’t loyal to the Lannister’s in King’s Landing?” “I don’t wish them harmed if that’s what you’re asking,” I reply softly. I may not get along with my aunt or cousin, but I do not wish death on them. I would pay a ransom for any member of my family, likeable or not.  
“We may actually have a decent noble. Didn’t think we’d see one of them again, not after Lord Eddard.” “Sandor Clegane?” I call out. “What?” “If I was to offer you your family’s home, what would you say?” “I’d tell you that you were stupid as I have a fucking older brother.” “I may need the Mountain now…but I was planning on sending his head to the Martels in exchange for a promise against military advances. Would you like to be the executioner?” I knew that would gain his attention. My Grandfather told me exactly how the Hound was burned. “More than anything would I like to cut my fucking brothers giant head off, but I don’t think I’m going anywhere.” “I could pay you,” I tell Beric honestly. “Any sum of money you want, I’ll pay for the release of my men, Clegane, and myself.” “Many of your men were killed in battle,” Beric informs me. I wildly look around and I remember hearing Jon’s voice earlier. I’m overhwlemed by relief that he survived. I don’t know what I’d do without him. “You’re monsters. Some of those men were younger then I am.” “We did what we had to do.” 

“Remove their hoods, they’ve been cloaked long enough,” I demand. Jon and one other soldier are all who remain. They’re each placed next to me and their hoods are removed. Jon looks down at my face and I can see relief and regret shining in his dark eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers to me. “Lia, I should have been with you.” “Jon?” A choked high voice cuts in. Jon goes rigid and he glances away from me. The little girl I spotted earlier is staring at us. She begins to move this way and she sidesteps dozens of arms that try and stop her, but she’s just too quick. “Arya!” Jon cries out in recognition. She reaches us and she wraps her arms around Jon’s neck. I look at her and see that Jon is correct. Arya Stark is here, after all this time she’s still alive. She looks like a boy and is dressed in ripped and dirty clothes. Everyone around us is talking loudly, watching the scene before them. Beric raises his hand and silences the room. “Who is this?” “My name is Jon Snow, My Lord,” Jon answers as he leans into Arya. With his hands bound behind his back he’s unable to hug her. “You can’t kill my brother,” Arya snarls at Beric. “I’ll kill you before you do that.” “Why aren’t you at the Wall?” She demands of her brother. “I left before I took my vows,” he explains. “I saved Lia’s life at the wall and Uncle Benjen convinced me to be her sworn sword.” Arya’s hard eyes find mine. “Is that true?” “Your brother has saved my life many times,” I answer. “But the Lannister’s killed father.” “Lia is on our side, sister. You heard her.” Jon looks to me with an amazed expression and I return my gaze to Beric. “I’ll pay for Arya too. She can go to Casterly Rock where Sansa, her sister, is.” “Sansa?” “Lia has protected Sansa in the capital,” Jon explains to his sister. “Even when I could not.” I know he speaks of both the throne room and the riot. Arya places herself in front of Jon. “Where Jon goes, I go,” she calmly informs the men. The all pile together to talk, keeping their voices quiet so we cannot hear. 

“Are you alright?” Jon asks me once they are far enough away. “I heard you scream my name and I thought the worst.” “I’m fine,” I reply softly. “I shouldn’t have left camp by myself.” “We all woke and you were gone. Don’t ever do that again.” “I told you but you I was going hunting, but you must not have heard me,” I explain. “I wanted to get everyone something to eat for breakfast.” “Lia, we’re lucky these are the men who captured us,” Jon angrily points out. “You could have been taken by murderers or rapers.” “I’m sorry,” I whisper, feeling shame. “You’re right.” I shiver; I remember how it felt to be trapped beneath a man. “Arya,” I greet her timidly. “I’m relieved to see you alive. We thought the worst.” She looks upon me and I don’t see any emotion in her brown eyes. “Arya,” Jon softly gains her attention. “I trust Lia more than anyone else in the world. You can too.” “Did you really save my sister?” “I did,” I answer softly. “She nearly died for it both times,” Jon cuts in. “She stood up to her cousin in front of the entire court for Sansa.” “Your cousin is a monster and I want to kill him.” “Many do,” I reply. 

“And what do you plan on doing next?” Beric questions as the group returns to this side of the cave. I feel the letter I took pressed up against my chest. I wanted to keep everything a secret so that word could not be sent out. “Once I had the Mountain and the remaining Lannister forces I intended to ride for Riverrun,” I inform them, feeling Jon’s gaze upon my cheek. He knows Robb is there with the Northern forces. “I wished to make a deal with Robb Stark.” “That is either very smart, or very stupid,” Thoros points out. “You’re right,” I agree with him. “But I still intend to do it.” Thoros then nods to Beric. “We’re releasing you and your men.” “What do you want in exchange?” I suspiciously question as he cuts the ropes from my wrist. “Your cause is noble,” Beric declares. “We want to help you end the war.” “Really?” “The Brotherhood is yours to command, My Lady.” They return our weapons to us and I already feel safer. “I need the Hound.” “He’s yours,” Thoros answers. “Sandor, do you wish to join?” “You need me to stop my brother,” he states plainly. “I’m not informing the Mountain of the change in Clegane succession till after I’m done using him.” “Smart plan.” I ask him to swear loyalty and at first, I think he’s going to tell me to fuck off, but he kneels and recites the oath. “Welcome to the fold, Lord Clegane.” “Call me the Hound.” “Right.” “He killed my friend Mycah!” Arya shouts. “Arya,” I cut off her anger. “I need the Hound to help me with the Mountain. Do you understand?” She falls silent but I can see rage behind her eyes. “I understand.” 

“My names Gendry, m’lady,” the young teenager greets Jon and I. “I’ve been traveling with Arya since King’s Landing.” “Very nice to meet you Gendry.” “You came into the shop I was working at once with your father. You ordered a knife. You were nicer than any other highborn who’d ever set foot in that store, you gave my master and I extra money.” I look at him, but I don’t remember him. “Fine craftsmanship deserves extra,” I tell him with a smile. “You’re welcome to join Arya as she returns to Casterly Rock. I’ll offer you any kind of job you want.” “I’m a blacksmith,” he tells me. “I’d be happy to work for you, even if you’re a Lannister.” “Don’t hold the name against me.” “I’m coming with you,” Arya states as she tugs on Jon’s arm. “You can’t,” Jon tells her. “It’s going to be dangerous and Sansa needs to know that you’re alive. She’ll be so relieved.” “I don’t want to leave you,” she whispers. In any other case I’d simply send Jon back west with her so he can reunite the sisters. But if I’m meeting with Robb then I need to have Jon by my side. There is no other way. Robb may not believe my words about Arya and Sansa, but he will if Jon vouches for me. “Ghost is there too,” he tells her. “I need you to help Sansa take care of him.” Her eyes light up. “Alright,” she agrees. “Promise me that I’ll see you again.” “I promise,” he whispers and he picks her up in a hug. “I love you so much, little sister.” “I love you too, Jon.” 

“I’ll be leading the little Lady to Casterly Rock,” Thoros informs me. “We’re not going to be shot, are we?” I hand him a letter I wrote. “Give this to my uncle and he will let you pass. I even included allowing you to drink with him.” “May the Lord of Light bless you,” he declares with a bright smile. I remember how much he enjoyed drinking and whoring with King Robert. A blind person could understand that. “For the night is dark and full of terrors,” Beric declares, gravely looking to Thoros. “I will ride with you, My Lady.” “Without your red priest?” The Hound spits at him. “What happens if you die?” “I’ve been waiting for the end for a long time,” he answers grimly. Jon bids goodbye to his sister one more time before we ride in opposite directions. “What are we going to do if my fucking brother tries to kill you?” “I pray that isn’t going to happen,” I reply. “Hmmmpfh.” I guess he doesn’t trust me, though I believe that I can change his mind. 

We find the Mountain encamped near Pinkmaiden. Lannister red tents line the field, just like when I left the Vale. A patrol comes along and they block our path. “State your business,” one-man barks. “My name is Lia Lannister,” I inform them. “I’m here to speak with Ser Gregor Clegane.” “How do we know you are who you say you are?” “Get out of the lady’s fucking way,” the Hound barks. “Or I will remove you from her path.” “Forgive me, Lady Lia,” he bows his head. “Already forgotten,” I tell him politely. “I would appreciate an escort.” “Of course,” he replies fervently. “Anything you need.” They lead us through the valley and men gather outside their tents. Some call out my name and I wave at them from my horse. I make a mental note to visit the injured after the meeting. I’m a little nervous to speak with the Mountain. I’ve never actually spoken with him without my Grandfather. But even he will understand what I’m about to offer him. 

The Mountain exits the largest tent and inclines his head. “Lady Lia.” “Ser Gregor,” I greet in return. “I did not expect you.” “I wish to speak with you; if you’d please,” I gesture to the tent and he holds the flap open for me. I feel the tension in the room spike when Gregor and the Hound stare at each other. Jon and Beric are already standing behind my chair, no doubt watching the brothers too. I clear my throat and the Hound joins Jon and Beric by my chair. I thought they were going to attack each other there. “I’ve come to offer you a chance to rejoin the Westerlands,” I begin quickly, hoping to get this over with. “I don’t understand.” “My Grandfather is no longer leading the West,” I state plainly. “I’ve taken over and you are the last of my bannermen that have not pledged oaths of loyalty to me. I’m giving you a chance to change that.” “Tywin Lannister is my Lord.” “Not anymore,” I inform him coolly. “You can either serve me as Lord of Clegane’s Keep or you can continue serving my Grandfather. But make no mistake Ser Gregor, the West is mine.” He’s staring at me and I stare right back, trying not to be intimidated by his large size. He may be a string warrior, but I hold all the power here. “You want me to break my oath?” “Yes.” He falls silent and I can feel the three men behind me all holding their breath. I’d guess all of them have their hands on their blades, prepared for the worst. “I will serve you, My Lady,” he finally agrees after a few minutes. “A wise decision Ser Gregor.” I sit while he swears his loyalty to me. “What do you wish of me?” “I plan on riding for Riverrun,” I inform him. “Leave the army here with your second command, you will be riding with me.” He nods and with a bow he strides out of the tent. 

“You’re bringing him with?” Jon questions in distaste. “Lia, that’s not a good choice.” “I agree,” the Hound spits. “My brother is a fucking monster.” “Right now, the Mountain wishes to serve me,” I coolly tell them. I appreciate their concern, but this is my decision. “I’m riding into an enemy stronghold and he is a great source of protection and intimidation.” “My brother would never harm you,” Jon objects. “You may trust your brother, Jon. But I met him twice and the second time he was rude to me and my Uncle. Not to mention that his mother kidnapped us and held me hostage while trying Tyrion for murder. The Starks are not my friends,” I explain softly. “I want to change that. But I also need to think like a leader and if my life is threatened then I need to respond accordingly.” “She’s right,” Beric nods to me. “If she folds and shows all her cards at once, then your brother will hold all the power.” “Will you two prepare the horses and gather some men to join us?” I ask Beric and the Hound; they leave to follow my orders. “Jon, do you trust me?” “Of course, I do, I’ve told you that,” he replies with a furrowed brow. “I don’t wish to put you in a complicated position; but if the peace talks do not go well…can I rely on you to protect me?” “Lia, I’ve pledged my life to you and I love you. I will defend you, I swear. Even against my brother,” he states firmly.


End file.
